Mixing concrete in a barrow,

bending and straining,

I felt the dragon strike

deep into my chest-

grabbing my aching heart,

squeezing, squeezing.

The pain like a sun burst

flared in all directions.

I recognized my foe,

stared mortality in the eye.

Damn! I thought,

this fence post won’t be set.

 

I sat down on a rock.

The pain diminished

but did not leave me.

Now not that bad a pain,

not as bad as a twice

stubbed and broken toe.

Not as fierce as a cracked

ankle skiing!

Not as showy as

a boom hit nose,

but it still hurt!

 

Damn! guess I’ll not be

racing to Hawaii this year.

Who will look after my family?

Am in really dying

or just making a fuss.

Must finish that first poem.

It’s for my friend with M.S.

It is a bit hard hitting,

she probably won’t like it

but I still want to finish it.

It is my first conscious poem.

Maybe my last.

 

Damn!

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, February, 1996