4/13/12
13/30
After my first emergergency as a stay at home dad.
Your child falling
Sounds too loud,
The accompanying wail
Too long in coming.
The blood in her hair
Too red, too bright.
Your movements too slow -
A cold compress, a
Towel for tears.
Her dress has blood
On the shoulder, the collar,
The hem - it seems so
Small now, this dress.
You press the cloth to her
Scalp; press like you're
Holding the ocean back. You
Hold her against your chest
Tight enough to share your
Pulse. You watch her head
Rise with your breaths; a buoy,
A lifeboat, the moon.
My heart sunk through this...Emergency rooms I had plenty - one day, Spencer slammed the "to the outside" sliding door and it cut the tip if Jane's finger off. I chased the finger down - they stuck it on, it didn't adhere, but her tip grew back anyway, because it was cut off above the first joint bone. I blamed myself because I was in a world of my own "somewhere". So, I panicked when I read your poem. Just the name "Emergency Room" stiffins me!
ReplyDeleteThere came the day after 16 years as a mother of three that I ran into the emergency room where my youngest was being treated after a car accident and the desk clerk looked up and said "Oh, hello, Mrs. Smith."
ReplyDeleteAnd that was my name.
Oh man... Did you have a frequent flyer card there? I almost freaked out, but then everything got eerily calm. I guess I do ok under pressure.
Delete