A Hole

There is a hole in my leg.
Just above my ankle, though
it has been stitched up now.

Five years ago a tiny hole was
cut to remove a skin cancer from
my ankle, a nasty mini greebly
o the kind our blazing Antipodean
sun fosters over our southern ocean.
that tiny hole was stitched up
neatly, delicately, most ladylike.

Now that skin cancer has returned.
It was removed with a margin of
healthy flesh to make sure it
never returns. That very large
hole is now building a healthy
scar above my ankle – not ladylike,
large stitches, not delicate.

New flesh is glueing itself around
my ankle, the bones will not
stick out, It meets decency standards
if not ladylikeness standards.

A Hole