Daniel


You frightened us all, Daniel
that day on the Island,
climbing the spiral stair
to the top of the lighthouse.
Your brain scanning signals -
the flash and swing of light
to dark seizure,
throwing you backward
over curved rails.

So unreal, it could be comic -
your clenched face
and body going down.
The slow realization of horror;
your mother’s unwinding scream.
The long wait for transportation.



Last time, it was a speeding car
that ripped you from a dark verge
and dragged you a distance
on gravelled road.
Your wrist caught
in the mirror’s hinge
that night of snapping bone
and tumbling stars.

And now, as the orderlies wheel you in
to an equally uncertain theatre,
we have to believe
in your fame for quick recoveries,
as a surgeon prepares
to drill into your skull
and remove a growth.


(c)Deb Matthews-Zott