Shock

Fog-lit halos ignite from darkness,
astonished by persistence,
admonished by perseverance.
Stun and sun are hand in hand
in bewilderment,
only half aware of perfunctory alarm.
No surprise,
no shock advised.

In the past are feet up recollections
of diet Cokes fizzing
next to ACLS manuals,
heads up, 5 Hs and Ts,
lingering rescue breaths
and the forceless chest compressions
of the unlearned,
bagging with one hand,
bitching to be let go before lunch is over,
and the cafeteria closes.

There is no crash cart here.
There is a mote-covered
pulse oximeter
and a weak battery
at the bottom of the box of 4 by 4s,
long unneeded and unheeded
in complacency.
All was always well.

Other people’s children arrest,
their backs evolving into dusky countries
of deoxygenated flesh,
to stiffen and gray
before your slumbered eyes.
Not mine.
Frenzied searching
for the Brailled, burnt finger relief
of the coldest surface
is how we stutter forward
forever, now.

Oh please, lungs, don’t deflate-
Oh please, heart, beat-

I can rescue you;
I carry these cards
attesting to such empty promises,
meaningless alleged savior.
You think you’re ready
for anything to arise
in unworriedly blissful daily routines,
never to be interrupted by fate;
controlled by knowledge
and qualifications
and certifications
of skill.
When the moment arrives, though,
there is nothing for you to do.
It is too late for expertise,
proficient ministrations of care.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
It was always out of my hands,
I pray and pray.