help is on its way
she said
wait, who’s she?
help is on its way
which way?
how did I get here?
I remember
I recall
so little
about why
and how or when
even now it is hard
to pinpoint the meaning
of the voices and the gestures,
the blurry lights
and doppler sounds
spinning round and round
and round.
I’m sick.
Something is hurt inside me.
My pulse is throbbing
somewhere everywhere bleeding
going leaving where am I going
i dont wanto go idontwantt
White light. Clean. Neat.
It’s a hospital room. I’m alive.
I can feel, I can feel again.
What happened? Was I in an accident?
I was driving on highway 11
just before Sudbury, in that bad stretch
of the road, with the winding turns,
and calamitous, overhanging rockfaces,
when a dark blur burst from the ditch,
just as dusk was dimming the lights,
I saw beige, no, white? flash on the movement –
horns? antlers. A moose, crossing the road,
spin, tumble, yelling. I remember me yelling now
then darkness and now here.
And now, what next? I can’t see or feel my body
and so I burn a hole into the door to my infirmary
with my gaze, waiting for the doctor to deliver his
judgment. And, I wait, and I wonder,
what next?