I look at my toes

neat and straight.

Except the little one.

 

Bent because I broke it.

The day I learned that dad

was having an affair.

 

I remember, on the settee

my baby on my lap.

It was summer and

my feet were bare.

Mum and dad came round.

 

Later

going to the bathroom

I stubbed my toe.

I couldn’t walk for days.

 

Never thought about a doctor,

I was too cross with dad.

 

It’s in the past now,

mum and dad are gone.

But I still bear

the crooked toe.

It's part of me.

And it lives on.