I try to read Rose Swall's blog, Pics and Pieces, every day. In her most recent post, in addition to showing some beautiful photos of a golden-leaved cottonwood tree, she discussed her husband's broken toe and resulting surgery. My sympathies to her hubby; I've broken the 'little toes' on both feet many times. In an attempt to avoid these painful events, I hardly ever go without hard-toed shoes anymore, inside the house or out.
Her discussion of broken toes reminded me: the last time I broke a toe, I composed a poem (ha ha) to commemorate the event. The words actually have nothing to do with broken toes, it's just what popped into my mind at the time. The poem is SO bad, it reminds me of authorblog's Verse and Worse (you won't believe some of the "rhymes" he constructs.)
Kicked Around (Ode to a Broken Toe)
If we're 'kicked when we're down' we don't have far to go.
A chicken in a breadpan can 'kick up the dough.' *
We can get 'kicked upstairs.' We may 'kick up a fuss.'
As we travel through life, we may 'kick up some dust.'
Kids pay 'kick the can.' We 'kick tires' on our truck; it
Seems we're always kicking --and then we 'kick the bucket.'* for anyone not familiar with "chicken in the breadpan kicking up dough," it's a square dancing term.
It's a glorious day outside today. I may have to take the camera and go scouting.