A Minute or Two Many Times Over

When he was five, he flew over the
handlebars, tore his chin on the
bell and scraped his chin in the
cinders in the alley and lay there
for a minute or two.

When he was eight, he swung so high
on the swing that when he wanted to
jump and fly forward he fell backward
onto his head and lay there for a
minute or two.

When he was nine, he stood too close
to the next door neighbor kid as he
swung the bat and got clobbered
upside the head and he just stood
there for a minute or two.

When he was eleven, he ran so fast
at the indoor track at the Y that he
slammed into the wall, tumbled
backward and sat on his can for a
minute or two.

When he was thirteen, he and a
friend played cowboys and Indians
in his basement with BB guns and
his friend kept shooting him in the
face narrowly missing his eyes and
when the shooting stopped he stood
there for a minute or two.

Many, many years went by and when
he was fifty-three, he tried a stunt
on his off-road bike, fell face first
into the dirt narrowly missing crushing
his spine but breaking thirteen bones
and he lay there in the dirt for a
minute or two

before his son and wife took him to
the emergency ward where he spent
three days in intensive care and four
in a regular hospital room before
going home where he slept in the
recliner for two months.

When he was fifty-four, he continued
to downhill ski and off-road bike.

When he was fifty-five, he gave up
off-road biking.

When he was sixty-six, he gave up
downhill skiing.

Now that he is seventy-one, he
puts on his running shoes and
waits a minute or two before
starting a very slow, very safe
trail jog.

After the jog, he stands there
in the middle of nature just
taking it all in for a minute
or two.

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