The pins in your hip the size of roofing nails.
Your femur fractured twice, once at the top
and again in the middle. Your patella cracked
under the strain. Then your ankle snapped.
Though it might have gone the other way:
from gas pedal contact on up. Take your pick,
you’re fucked. And your other foot mangled,
too, crushed where the toes come together
at the arch. No more tennis, the bone doc
quips, unless your partner is no good. (Though
a pro would feed you forehands in the center
of the court.) How about dancing? Well, maybe
in a while. Let’s take it one step at a time.