Twisted History

A stupid curb,

an unexpected dip.

The sidewalk just

a little off its trip.

My foot caught,

a half-stumble,

and the sharp memory

of a twist, years back.

My left ankle,

that old sprain,

the bone's small knot

under the skin.

A permanent lump,

a story in the flesh.

The slight ache

a ghost that returns

with the weather,

or a misstep.

It’s just there.

A reminder

of how easily

things break,

and then mend,

but not quite

the same.