Sunday, January 4, 2015

Safe




















“Good morning Mr. Alexsan….. um Anatoly” she said,
I wasn’t sure when she had entered the room,
I only knew that she was there;
finally;
I had thought of very little else
the entire night;
I imagined what she must look like,
I felt the touch of her fingers as she
checked my bandages;
it felt like electricity,
crackling and popping;
“how did you sleep?” she asked,
“I’m not sure that I did” I replied,
“well you must have slept some,
the overnight nurse wrote that
you were snoring very loudly
when she checked on you.” she chuckled,
we laughed together;
I had not laughed like that
since before the war,
with my wife,
that thought brought it
all back;
her death,
dying little girls,
Tukarov,
the brutality,
the savagery,
the gas,
the sounds of gasping,
the coughing,
the weeping,
the darkness;
“Anatoly, Anatoly,
it’s okay” she whispered,
holding me in her arms,
and for the first time,
in a very long time;
I felt safe.
.

.

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