Pulling Thread

A sudden pull, a ghostly ache,

where skin remembers for goodness sake.

A childhood fall, a scraped-up knee,

that needed mending, urgently.

I felt the needle, sharp and thin,

pulling the dark thread deep within.

A heavy gauge, like fishing line,

to draw two ragged edges fine.

The doctor's hands, so calm and steady,

made a dark seam, already ready

to scar and fade, a whispered trace,

of falling down in time and place.