part of a story-poem memoir, when I was nine
The nurse affixes
a sling
for my left arm
in its heavy
Z-shaped cast
she helps me
from the hospital bed
into the wheelchair
she wheels me
across the hall
to see the little boy
with the crushed foot
who’s five
who’s been screaming
almost
non-stop
there he is
very small
in his bed
with crib rails
his foot
big with bandages
is suspended in the air
on a tall sling
I see
the surprise
on his tear-streaked face
when he sees
me
This is the girl
from across the hall
says the nurse
She has a broken arm
look
but she’s okay
the doctors have fixed her arm
so it can get well
Hi
I say
because
I can’t think
of anything else
he stares at me
this little boy
with the crushed foot
who is five
but he’s stopped screaming
Hi
he says
at last
he doesn’t smile
exactly
I don’t know
if his foot
is going to be
okay
I just know
as look at him
and he looks at me
that somehow
he
will be
because
I am
lit bits and pieces 