circumnavigating decisions above Castor Falls

I became symbolic:

finally engaging with the subject below the surface

I cut my foot on amber glass

not yet marred by the dulling effect of Time

a fresh wound --

for me, the totality of the moment,

but the blood formed imperceptible drops

in the still mountain water

where I waded and where I then waited

for the first signs of a clot to form

like a granite shelf rising up from pink clayfields,

steady

I could see my breath radiate

and become imperceptible drops

in the still mountain air

when the pain finally budged,

softening to Acceptance

I could picture my mother saying,

"Time Heals All Wounds"

or something she read from a Hallmark card

and I would say back to her,

"It's Nothing, Really"

and she wouldn't believe me

and she would be right

it's not nothing

it is something

else entirely

an inconsequential low

an imperceptible drop along a vast mountain range

unworthy of mention, even as a foot note

nothing more than a deep cut

but something

nonetheless