The Cut

Pride comes before a fall
and afterwards...blood.

If it hadn't been for a group
of passing brownies
I would have been buried
under the falling snow
like a toddler's dad at the beach.

I had a cut on my face
the shape of a frown.
The Brownies gave me fifteen stitches,
and waited for me to regain consciousness
so they could pose for a photograph
to show Brown Owl
and pass their first aid badge.

By the time I got to your house
dinner had been ruined
you ate the lasagne yourself
made a salad
from the saut?ed potatoes
to take with you to work for lunch.
You said you weren't angry
just worried
and when you saw the stitches
you brought my forehead
to your lips.
The pain seemed to disappear
and when I looked in the mirror
the cut had gone

septic.