This scar on my hand is almost twenty,
and the one on my knee.
The former was a fight with my sister,
the latter a misjudged hurdle at Easter.
The one on my finger was hot wax
In art class. My buddy said it was paybacks
as he poured the spoonful of liquid,
Bubbling my skin. I don’t remember what I did.
The one in my scalp was a refrigerator
And linoleum and socked feet and a corner.
The one on my back was a plow;
Balance beam, slipped and fell. I think that’s how.
The one on my chin was a chicken
(But its scar is much deeper than mine).
The one in my spine,
Winding it tight? That is time.
The one on my lip was my knee
chasing a ground ball
Which goes to show I cause my own injury.
So you know,
dear boy,
I will cause you
Some, too.
So maybe you’ll grow up to see
That I am meant to be
A scar,
Reminding you of a Father
Who will heal every scar
I cause.
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