by Carolin Messier


Struck by a stone
I didn’t see coming
driving behind a dump truck
with an unsecured load
all it took was a pebble
to hit the surface
just so
to divot the pane
previously unmarred
remarkably, for nearly a decade—
that petrous chisel
carved a thumbnail crater
between my left eye
and the sky.

Soon the tiny lines will lengthen
with each freeze and thaw
the pain
flexing and contracting
reflecting and absorbing
flexing and contracting
with acceptance and resistance
forcing the lines
to splinter across the
visible plane
spider and web
distorting my vision
especially when it rains.