FACES UNSEE 1940 | By: Terry Collett | | Category: Poem - Life Bookmark and Share


With my hands
I move myself
to the side of the bed,
and stare around
with sightless eyes,
wondering if the nurse
put the commode
near the bed
as she said she would.

I try to balance
on one hand
as I search around
with the other.

The pain
in my leg stumps
nags at me
each time I move.

I touch
the commode arm,
and try and move myself
in a position,
that I may
be able to get
on the commode,
but as I move forward
I fall into darkness,
and hit my head,
and land on my back,
and stare into
a painful blackness.

a voice says,
what are you doing?

I face the voice:
I wanted to get
on the commode,
I say.

You must ask,
the voice says.

I want to be
I say.

Not just yet;
now keep still
while we assess you
for damage,
the voice says.

She calls out for help;
I hear footsteps
running and another
voice says,
what's Grace
doing on the floor?

She was trying to get
on the commode
by herself,
the other voice says.

Shall I call a doctor
to examine her?  

I'm all right,
I say,
nothing broken;
just the usual
pains and aches.

Your head is bleeding,
a voice says;
other voices come.

I lie still
and stare at
the darkness
around me,
attempting to stare
at faces
I cannot see.

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