The wood splintered floor  

Grabbed hold of my thumb.

I hadn’t noticed

When it entered my flesh

An invisible prick

That didn’t ache

Until the sun set.

 Mom looked

At the hidden damage

And told me, “We need to remove it

Or it might get infected.”

My anxiety level percolated

And like Superman

She used x-ray eyes

As her fingers

Glided to the

 Spot of entry.  

 Nita used a match

And flame

To disinfect

The tweezer.

As she dug

Into my flesh

 I lingered

Between a wince

And a cry

Release and relief

Came next

As she used petroleum jelly

To soothe my thumb

With juicy cold

 From the surgery

 aftermath.