He was driving to breakfast,
Teens in back, wife in front.
I looked past his face to his belly –
Shirt open – and saw nine jagged red scars.
“I thought you said you’d never had an accident.”
“Yes, until last week.
“The chainsaw bit me.”
No stitches, no antibiotic –
Off for breakfast.
Then, more limbs and branches to cut,
I went to the classroom.
An empty seat.
“Didn’t you hear?
“He was chainsawing, and a limb hit his head;
If I went back to Doug’s town
And asked about him,
I wonder who’d remember forty five years later ….
Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky, mid-June 2013