Another toe for the chop

poem by: Theresa Davison
Written on May 16, 2018

The Doctor had strapped my feet in place.
I was scared of what I'd chosen to face.

She touched the end of my right second toe.
"Are you ready? There's no going back you know?"
"Okay," I said, "Go."
I felt the cold metal against the base of my toe, then I felt the new gap.

Now my toe count is down to seven.

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Smokey Wraith commented on May 17, 2018 at 11:54pm

For some reason this makes me think of climbers who have to have limbs and appendages removed due to frost bite. I can only imagine how scary something like this would be...

Frank Hornby . commented on May 18, 2018 at 3:00pm

.....another toe bites the dust ðŸŽ¶.....and another ones gone....ðŸŽ¶....another toe bites the dust...ðŸŽ¶........haha...I know you've got a sense of humour Theresa......seven is a lucky number........ðŸ˜‚

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