By Claire Scott
A Mother’s Prayer
A crooked body, a staccato limp, a cane
living on Oxycodone and Vicodin
to dull the senses, to smooth sudden spasms
Klonopin or Lunesta at night
for flashbacks that strike like
lightning, slicing strung-out dreams
MRIs, EKGs, doctors frowning,
whispering in the ER, concussion,
brain bleed, TBI
sirens slash the afternoon, children stare
at the flashing lights, a teen with green hair
turns away, unable to watch
people gather around the body lying
still on the street, someone calls 911
a woman runs a light, texting
or sipping coffee or thinking about
last night’s tangle of tongues
he enters a crosswalk, easy stepping
the light turns green
his tennis racquet swinging
a Yankees cap, an Iggy Pop shirt
and a brand new pair of Asics
looking forward to seeing his friends
Lord, where were you that LA afternoon
when the sun was sliding down Laurel Canyon
where were you then
at least freeze this last frame and
let him taste one more mouthful of joy.
Claire Scott is an award-winning poet who has received multiple Pushcart Prize nominations. Her work has been accepted by the Atlanta Review, Bellevue Literary Review, New Ohio Review, Enizagam and Healing Muse among others. Claire is the author of Waiting to be Called and Until I Couldn’t. She isthe co-author of Unfolding in Light: A Sisters’ Journey in Photography and Poetry. https://www.clairescottpoet.com