She kneels on one leg and ties those purple laces,
the shoes she’s been longing to slide into for over a month,
the right laces are pulled loose to fit the then swollen foot and brace,
but today she pulls them tight, runs her fingers over the ankle
testing the tendons, wondering have they fused back together?
are they strong enough?
She stretches outside against the brick wall,
still delicate with the one side, unsure if it can do it
visions of bruises, and braces, and crutches, and large orange size swellings
filter through,
but today none of those are in her eye line.
She walks to the end of her driveway,
ready,
every muscle in her body trills with anticipation
so ready
a swift breeze catches in the cul-de-sac and
she knows it’s time,
places weight on that right ankle and takes off.
