111 – Emergency

Emergency

It takes an emergency squad at least 20 minutes to arrive
(usually longer) and the car will sink long before they get there.

The dead beaver in the bike lane, its tail badly hacked off, gave it look
like it was shitting its own innards.

I have cried over less.

The river bridge is still two bridges bridging towards itself.

The wings make a sound in wind like a rare tree frog or tiny bird: tilikum tilikum.

Sometimes, to make sure someone knows you love them, you have to
ask them to stop talking and look at you, just for a second.

Their eyes may seem like the eyes of a person inside a sinking car.

Make a small sound for them, like a rare bird, to say
I am here, I am here.

Place your hand on their hand. Matching
tails full of blood-warmth.

They may cry. Don’t worry. Forget about the car.

The emergency is over.

The emergency is over.

Notes:
a) First post-Lent poem. Nice/weird to be out of the container.
b) The first line is from a spam-bot that “commented” on my site. Thanks, spam-bot.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *