The Moment My Own Nurse
Of course, she’d been drugged, but
“I just can’t believe it, I can’t
believe it,” she exclaimed even as
she breathed, and in the elevator,
took my face in both hands,
as I bent over
the gurney, and
‘oh” my name, she said, you know, saying
my name, and “oh” my name
so intensely that the nurse
teared up,
and it’s not that we
are in perfect synch or
synch,
though I did know how to calm her somehow
both pre- and post-op, playing just the right music into
her almost deaf ears, able too to sing
along–
still, it was a moment–my mother loving me–
no, my mother always
loves me–but my mother loving me
with her hands–
I can feel them yet, the flow of blood that turned
the cool palms pink, there
on my cheeks,
I can feel them
yet.
**************
For my own prompt on Real Toads (posting later today) to write a poem using narrative. The drawing is mine; all rights reserved.
ps will be traveling today so may be late in returning comments, thanks!
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