a break in my walking

written as I recover from my first (and hopefully last) fracture

inauspicious circumstance has befallen me and
a Jones fracture has made me its victim
the bones of my foot have broken, how futile and grim
a month goes by, the injury becomes a calendar.
Now I limp again, impatiently awaiting
the union of my bones, patiently ossifying
i drench and drench and drench
my callouses in oil
but they remain unyielding and barren
my limbs cannot walk, they have forgotten.
my mother prays for my overcompensating other foot
and my father doles out advice, impersonating a podiatrist.
there has been far too much feet talk this month
skeletons mend themselves is what I'm told