First suture (Allan Peterkin)

The mother shakes
but the child flails
with terror
a four-inch gash
on her perfect brow The father waits outside pacing, raging
his answer to fear
Hold her
still please
My junior hand
trembles under taut rubber to small choking sobs
My needle much too close to that sea-blue eye
Her mother sings a lullaby to calm us
It goes
in and out until
I cut the last knot I am
not breathing

Advertisements

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s