I read somewhere that asking for a hug
From someone wearing casts on both their arms
Was much like asking cats to bark. A drug
Or magic potion (smartphones?) wields its charms
On unsuspecting minds, and we, the broken-
Appendaged think we’re Bolshoi-ready. Have
You ever found your sweet self there? Woken
To find that you were needing gauze and salve
And stitches stat? My hand is raised. A friend
Once asked, “What is it that you want?” Bemused,
I answered, “Hell if I know. Maybe lend
Me half your working wanter? I’m confused.”
He reached out his uncasted arms and squeezed.
And something in my chest and shoulders eased.
This poem has been fueling my day and I’ve shared it with dozens of people online and off. Hugs! Big, strong, bear hugs… as strong as two rotator cuff injuries will allow, O Poet…
Karin, this makes me so happy. I’m loving that hug.