60° day in march

inspired by the September Poetry Prompt Calendar: (9/6) and Yellow Bowl (9/4)

if I had not taken the ski class in January
if I had not received the free ski pass
if it had not been a 60° day in March when I remembered to use the pass

there would not be 2 faded scars from the metal plates screwed into
my left ulna and radius

if a viral infection in the first few months of life attacks the nerves
if the details of birth trauma are shared by the people who had been present
if an ancestor—distant or recent—experienced congenital “Botox”

then a person who has access to this information would understand why her face is partially paralyzed

if attachment were not so sticky that it leaves a heart ripped raw when abandoned
if fear did not clot the blood and form thick scar tissue
if love did not bruise when words or silence distort expectations

then the memory of a loss would be a presence—most likely an imperfect one—
but one that risks and weathers, fortifying with time