on hand & foot

i have a scar on the outside of my right wrist
that finds it's twin on the inside of my right ankle.
one i received reaching into the oven
to retrieve cookies that I sent to a soldier in iraq,
the other,
walking the streets of vegas in relentless leather sandals.

of baking and walking in las vegas,
memory left traces of beauty and pain
simple in their passing,
no monuments of divine revelation
and no correlation between.

but their mark ever remains
of doing and going
being
no symbolism or clarity
no blame
simply reminders
that I live.