Finger Poem

 

Photo credit: Scott Cain "September Squall" 

For all

I looked at my finger today, 

And I remembered, having sliced off a hunk on a Sunday

There was so much wind blowing through my hair 

And I of thought how grateful I was beyond the little scare

My index to keep, in old the self aware

And I let the fingers run through, to push the wind back into the air