Already Broken
You must write as if all along a flaw
Was on the bone, one place not quite right.
Begin the story as if you knew the horse
As weak, delicate, ruin about to happen.
Walk the road backward,
Thick with trees, out through to pasture
Where the bucket hangs ready to fill,
The truck cold, the doctor still asleep.
Your knees without mud, the handbook high
Upon the shelf, the needle as it waits for the question
Not yet asked. Morning untrampled
As a room we'd never entered. Or entered
And were not seen. Entered and then
Forgiven. Entered never moved again.
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