I was just thinking about the day <br />that I blew part of my hand away. <br />September twenty, sixty-three: <br />that day will live in infamy. <br /> <br />Fireworks should be handled with care <br />and on that day I couldn't spare <br />the time to do things right, <br />which led to my sad plight. <br /> <br />Confused was I after the blast; <br />how did it all happen so fast? <br />I'm standing back some twelve feet now <br />from the explosion site, but how? <br /> <br />Some water running, I can hear; <br />must turn the tap off, should be near. <br />There is no tap; it is the sound <br />of my own blood splashing the ground. <br /> <br />I panic now, am filled with fright; <br />my mangled hand a gruesome sight. <br />Two perfect hands I had before, <br />but that shall be the case no more. <br /> <br />No nine-one-one; does not exist; <br />I wrap a cloth around my fist <br />and hold it tight - - can't stand this heat! <br />A car is flagged down in the street. <br /> <br />A helpful driver we have found, <br />willing to take us all around. <br />The first hospital turned us away; <br />We have no doctors here, they say. <br /> <br />And so across the town we fly; <br />another clinic we can try. <br />There finally we find success; <br />they put me under, now I rest. <br /> <br />That man who drove us all about <br />was Heaven-sent, there is no doubt. <br />The hospitals were very far; <br />would not have lived without that car! <br /> <br />The years have passed, and I reflect <br />on treating fireworks with respect. <br />We get shorthanded here in the fall <br />and I'm the most shorthanded of all.<br /><br />Kim Barney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/big-bang-memory/
