Daily Anniversary

"Every day we pass the anniversary of our own death"
                                                                        ~ Sean Thomas Dougherty


Not just of what tried to kill you
but failed. Also, in what ways,
including  unintentionally.

Obvious ones, like the sharpened 
pencil in the hand of a jumping child
missing its mark, the parcel 
that exploded in the mail room; 
how you passed the last marathon 
mile before the road turned
into a sinkhole.

You were in seat F 
when a truck bearing
a load of scaffolding material 
punctured the bus windshield, 
skewering all in window seats. 

A flash flood
carried people in a car 
away, their faces 
against the glass
like in a disaster movie. 

But mostly, the quieter 
ticking in thickets of blood
underneath the surface,
scales wrapped around
throat or heart  muscle—

All that you don't even see 
yet keeps you awake
at night, listening 
for breath until
the sun comes up.