The Return

The sidewalk was a map of oil and rain,

the kind of jump that usually brings the pain.

I didn't think, I simply cleared the mess,

waiting for the ghost of old distress.

But then it came—the quiet, silver click,

the hip joint moving smooth and fast and quick.

The hinge was greased, the heavy debt was paid,

I walked away and wasn't even afraid.

No longer just a house of breaking glass,

I felt the wind against the yellow grass.

The engine started, steady in my chest,

a body finally putting hurt to rest.