crashing on Parker's hill

my thumb was twisted
when I crashed my sled
into a large white pine
that was in the middle of
the Parker's hill

the tendon snapped
and I could feel it slide back
under my flesh
like an earth worm
into a juicy pile of manure

the pain was bearable
only in so far as I bore it
screaming and crying like
a boy who lost his grampa

i hadn't lost mine yet
and i was too busy watching
my thumb no longer opposing
gravity as it flopped back

(and forth.)

at the time, I really thought,
"This is pain."
I was wrong, that was just
the inkling of pain, before
real suffering blesses
a man, so that he can be
a magnificent wretch
(or a fool) but no longer naive.