The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Ethna McKiernan
Oh, Maria
One Thursday at Homeless Services More days than I’d like I remember Maria staggering toward me into the lobby and dying in my arms— how I was wrong to think we needed to call Detox rather than the ambulance, how she couldn't, except with wild eyes, speak, but shook and shook and shook. The bright lights of the lobby made me dizzy. Maria slumped against me and I yelled for water, water, someone get water, but when I held the glass to her lips, her fingers pushed mine away and she began to choke. I just didn’t get how fast she was slipping away, how I should have yelled for more help and put her on the floor to do CPR, if I remembered, God help me, how. No pulse, but I kept holding her. I remember paramedics coming in and in an instant Maria was on the floor with her shirt up and a defibrillator striking her chest with one shock after another as her head bounced back upon the pillow they’d placed beneath her. They took her away just as fast, hoping for a heartbeat. Oh, Maria, how I laughed at your antics weekly, how you kept your tent so neat, how when I took you to get groceries at Rainbow Foods with your food stamps, we pushed the same grocery cart as if we were sisters out for a stroll. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |