Art: Maximilian Rau
THE ACCIDENT
Didn’t you see me coming?
No, I didn’t.
The adrenalin pumping through
our wild and open veins
the body quick to take care of itself
the mind left on its own.
No, I didn’t see you coming,
going through the light
to make my turn
leaving the house at exactly
the time that would
have me crossing your path.
Finishing my morning coffee
throwing on jeans, a tee shirt
digging for sandals —
I didn’t see it coming
not the months of travelling
to and from my mother’s bedside
passing by the airport store
the same turquoise necklace
its large lump of blue rocks
glistening under lights
the same young woman behind
the counter, restless, bored.
After the cane,
after the walker, the wheelchair
after the portable commode
permanently parked
next to her bed —
she, horrified by its presence
as if it were the Eye of God
watching her move less and less
and in defiance, refusing Him
“Get it out of my house!”
I didn’t see it coming.
The oxygen mask
the hissing tank,
its pulsing …
then purrrrr,
the pulse ….
the hissssss
off long enough for morphine.
I did see you coming
but it was too late —
there you were with
your tattooed arms and
baggy blue pants, eyes
glaring at me, your hands
on your hips — too young
to know the weight of
children, the weight of
a dying mother
saying again and again,
Didn’t you see me coming?
Because even when you see it
coming
everything slows
the woman flagging me forward,
the light turning
the sound of metal, glass
rising before dawn
only to watch death’s humiliation,
the cloth she can’t hold
the food she can’t eat
the pills she can’t swallow —
I moved through the turn
but could not stop
all the while knowing the end,
no thinking anymore
on the edge of the bed
my arm around her bony shoulder
I held the cup to her lips
let her sip the bitter drink
the only grace
left to give.
About the author:
Abigail Warren’s poetry has appeared in over twenty literary magazines, including Bluestem, decomP, Emerson Review, Hawaii Pacific Review, Sakura Review, Tin House, and others, as well as in the anthology 30 Poems in November. She teaches at Cambridge College in Massachusetts.
About the artist:
Maximilian Rau is a photographer from a village in Southern Germany, currently studying in Sweden.
