My Right Big Toe Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

My Right Big Toe



My mother taught me
how to clip my nails.
Just one more parent's duty
I suppose.
Self-care creates self-worth
with such details,
and how you treat yourself
shows in your toes.
She had a nail, I know,
that went astray.
(It's funny how kids
never miss a flaw)
I clipped away
and suddenly
one day
same nail on me
had curled by nature's law.
Today I noticed
that one had turned black,
but when and how it bruised
can't recall.
It had to have been
quite a nasty whack.
It's weird
I don't remember it at all.
Though,
while in three month's time,
it will be gone,
the mystery of what and why
goes on.

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