Magic of a Leprechaun
Collected all the details;
charts, records –
then organized the day –
we knew – you would
never give up.
Etched in my mind,
your eyes.
Years have gone
since hell broke loose
but time is still filled by
memory – your strength
and courage – your battles
for living –
On the day you were to
die we were brought to
your side – near the head
of the bed, to the right, I
stood.
No one moved. I recall
the sound of the respirator,
your eyes opened, but you
stared at the ceiling as air
pumped your chest up and
down –
I don’t recall what I was
thinking – it was what you
were thinking that bothered
me – watching you stare –
tubes and tape and blood
draining from your mouth –
then your eyes closed.
A friend shared rosary beads
from Ireland…
out loud I asked God,
“If only you could wake
one more time see the beauty
of these rosary beads…”
I placed them in her hand.
You sat up, waved your
arm toward the door as
nurses came into the room,
and I smiled for awhile –
you glanced at us,
gathered around your bed –
It was that last spark of
life – you lived another
day – you joined others
when the magic of a
leprechaun touched
your skin.
(Mom – do you remember
me – at birth – with tubes
and a wall of glass keeping
you away?)
Interesting and creative poem.
Lynne thank you so much for your kind words. A rough one to write for sure…
Nancy