Spare Parts

We barge out of the womb   
with two of them: eyes, ears,   

arms, hands, legs, feet.   
Only one heart.  Not a good   

plan.  God should know we   
need at least a dozen,   

a baker’s dozen of hearts.   
They break like Easter eggs   

hidden in the grass,   
stepped on and smashed.   

My own heart is patched,   
bandaged, taped, barely   

the same shape it once was   
when it beat fast for you.

Copyright Credit: Poem copyright © 2006 by Trish Dugger. Reprinted from Magee Park Poets: Anthology 2007, No. 18, Friends of the Carlsbad City Library, 2006, by permission of Trish Dugger.