You may state the case with
flippancy, understate the pain,
underrate the pace your heart
was beating. The news deflates
our elevated feelings, leaves us
stranded in a conversation. We
are aghast, we’ve fallen where
you fell, we’re pierced where
your whole and perfect body was
invaded by the steel. A broken
plank, unyielding scaffolding,
mates’ concerns and scarcely
muted anger – why me! why me!
echoes remedy-induced from
anxious dreams. We did not sleep,
endured inertia more a sense of
orphaned disbelief, more a trance
of broken planks and falling, falling
– endlessly.
© 2007-02-21, I.D. Carswell
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