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Poem

"Be very still", the voice said 
"I'll get the nails from between your toes". 
"He still breathes", another voice.
 A gentle move, 
a hand laid at my back, 
another at my neck. 

"We are your friends, not foes", 
He adds, hearing my whimpering. 
I cringe at the painful sting 
of nails torn from my hands. 

I hear their whispers of horror 
when they remove the bloodied shirt.
He wraps my chest in cellophane
Gently whispering and smiling.

Someone turning me around, 
tightly strapped to a gurney
holds me softly against his chest, 
while another cuts my jeans away: 
"His calf needs splints, his back 
Is badly hurt... those vertebrae, 
this kid is most certainly not okay". 

The soft voice whispers tenderness. 
"A miracle he lives, 
the way we found him, 
he is crushed, his femur". 
 "Cover him in blankets, 
his skin so cold, ambulance now! 

Don't touch his shattered forearms!" 
He cautiously takes my limp body 
in his warm and careful strong arms. 
My nostrils fill with strangest fragrance, 

And in my brain the world spins, 
Finally I am feeling warm, 
And then I fall asleep

***

brain, forearms, nostrils, femur, vertebrae, chest, calf, nails, hands, toes, back, neck, arms.

***

A Body of Work - contest
sponsored by Viv Wigley
september 2016

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