"When quiet shatters...its pieces can scar you forever."

"Somebody help me.....

please call 911!!"

a lady cried banging on

my screened entrance

in a staccato of fear.

Yanked brusquely from the

normalcy of an ordinary day

I rushed to the front door,

to view my whole world awry.

For just beyond her panicked eyes,

pleading for a solution

I saw a man lying face down,

his whole life at its near finish

upon the end of my driveway. 

In an adrenaline rush 

like a weak blood vessel I burst,

in a flash of flesh and fear 

in stockinged feet, and shoeless.

I dashed to his side and then

gasped not only from my haste,

but also grasping at once

the horrible position 

fate had brought

upon me.

With no time for indecision,

though even heroes are reluctant

hey...I was just a guy

who lived behind the place 

where he had fallen,

but I knelt to save him


His face was crushed

against the asphalt,

wrenched to the side upon

its impact, in puddles of his

blood and gore purple and blue...

his glasses shattered..

he'd hit with no hands

out to stop him.

I knew I had to turn him over 

but he was stiff, and icy cold,

so with my muscles all straining 

I flipped him, and when I had him

on his back I saw that he was

my nice neighbor, a man who

always had a smile except for now...

Then instinct immediately

took over, though unwillinging still

I had to do  all that I could

to bring him back
~
His lips and nose were awash

in blood across his whole face

it was plastered, his mouth

was full too, where I'd soon

share my life's breath

to fill his lungs

I screamed, "Someone get me a towel, 

a wet rag.... just give me a shirt." 

Judy ran to get several,

dialing a cellphone

as she went.

A shirt was tossed to me,

a young man offered his

aid from afar among  

the bystanders simply

standing by me,

looking down on this

task so distasteful.

I wiped his face inadequately 

and bent to wrench him

from death's grip, pinching his nose,

as my lips enclosed him,

as a  sickly, sticky sense ensued.

I blew a long blast deep inside him

and watched his abdomen

arise on that Saturday just before

Easter with resurrection

not yet there~and his answer was

a bloody gurgle which he'd

repeat so many times.

I turned my face and

spit it out his blood

then onto his chest I

dashed for compressions

while yelling at him to hang on,

"Don't die on me...John,.....

just keep fighting."

and then back to that

bloody hole demanding

more air to fill his starving lungs.

Thumps, breaths, thumps, breaths

a rhythmic pummeling of death,

the world enveloped me in slow-mo

a whole eternity dragged passed me,

about 8 long minutes ago.

one neighbor at last took

my job of compressing upon John's

chest leaving me free to concentrate

on the copper smelling

gory red exhales that I blew..............

Far in the distance I heard

sirens, quite faint above 

John's wife's sad cries,

she kept on begging us to help him

but I could not look in her eyes,

while John gave

only gurgling sighs..............................

Soon expert hands

bid me give passage, 

I raised my mottled face and moved

just a few feet away,

and squatted....exhausted.

I focused on their hurried efforts

to stop death as it excised John 

Not one of them  dared put

his mouth on John's face without

masks and protection, 

they looked at me like I was crazy

but they'd come from another place.

He'd been out jogging

and death chased him down,

in a pace he couldn't outrun. 

They loaded him onto a stretcher

still working on him,

rubber gloved but then the ambulance

stood and stayed silent

as they put him in

and closed the doors.

I wiped my mouth

and tasted sorrow

more failure then ever before

later they left us there all

standing in huddled groups

upon my drive.

They took John but

he'd left already

upon a far more distant ride.

Later I filled some

buckets with hot water

and then washed away

the puddle of John's life

congealing from where

it had been squashed.

They said his heart attack was massive

and that even under doctor's expert care

he would have perished in an instant

but it brought me so little comfort 

and painted life much more unfair.

The end result betrayed all hope

and I still saw him lying there

four days past when he took his leave.

I made a small cross and erected it,

quite close to the spot he fell

to let my neighbors know his passing

 meant something more then tears and grief.

 
We'd lost one of our own too early

he'd left us all beyond belief

yet still this simple faith filled marker

served to remind...and bring

some modicum of relief.

"When the quiet shatters,

it's pieces can scar you forever."

Godspeed...John N---lon
1947 to 2002

" Jog on through to heavens glory

and rest forever in it's shade."
~

When Death Stopped By .

...Some Afterthoughts...

It's quiet here now 
all that was untidy is 
boxed up, and buried 
soon poppies will bloom 
where his blood washed 
into my soil, and grass 
they come up every year 
with bright red heads 
near where John's fell 
I shake my own head 
at this symbolism 
but life creeps onward 
I can spring back on Sunday 
kind words were rendered 
tears shed, hugs squeezed 
a funeral without the fun- 
that graces its first 3 letters 
I can taste things again 
without a cooper taint 
or a smell of mortality 

The street is back 
to its normal flow 
cars slow a bit at the cross 
that marks the passing 
of one man that will 
not pass by anymore 
one less smile as I 
grab the morning paper 
a Mister Rogers neighborhood 
transformed in an instant 
to a scenario of death 
excuse me while I 
don a sweater 
the chill still lingers.

  
The daffodils have opened 
their sleepy heads 
and their trumpets blow taps 
I am numb but feelings 
are not vacant 
and soon this too will pass 
 
Life restores the rips 
that tear the fabric 
of our souls 
it knits them quickly 
in bright colors 
to distract us 
I like the quiet here 
my dog snores 
and birds chirp 
and I will not think anymore 
of the silent flesh 
pressed in satin 
in a place with no sound 
~ 
When the quiet shatters 
its pieces can scar you forever. 
when the quiet resumes 
the scars attempt a fade 
into the hazy past. 

A Warning God Laid

At The End Of My Drive.

12:30 p.m.

the phone jangles 

jerking me up

from a piece 

of clay I was 

attempting to adapt 

from just mud 

into pure art 

breathing life into

 a useless lump

of Terra fir-ma

 
I reached over to

grab the creative 

license suspender

and said, "Hello??"

It was my Doctor's office 

"We have the results

of your blood work 

your stress tests 

your x-rays 

and the doctor would

like to see you

 "Could you come in at 3:15 today??" 

"Ah...sure." I stammered 

and hung up with a faint goodbye 

jangle...jangle...jangle

 ~~~~~jingle~~~jingle~~~jingle

not the phone this time 

but alarms going off 

in my head 

my heart pounding

louder then that day

my screen door was hammered

by a lady announcing

a dying man's needs

at the end of my drive

 

In a stupor

I cancelled a studio session

and paced the kitchen 

turning the linoleum

into leaner-noleum.

"My, God...what's the urgency?? 

I thought as the hands 

on the clock 

spun in a slow dance

to a song best forgotten.

after thinking of all the 

worst possible scenarios.

 
Aids, hepatitis, cancer.. 

I had smoked many years of 

various weeds and herbs 

till I quit and hey they

took a chest x-ray 

or could it be some 

flesh eating bacteria 

some new unknown

transfreable poison

all because I gave CPR

to a dead man

thinking it would help? 

Could that mark me as the next

house call for the reaper 

then suddenly the clock

was whipping around

like a rabid dog

chasing his well chewed tail

in mad circles 

and it was 2:30.

 
I grabbed my keys and

walked slowly to the car

thinking maybe this sunny day

would be the last for a long while. 

I would have chosen

to remain innocent

of the facts of 

my own mortality.

 
I didn't want to know

if it was anything bad 

but my options were thin 

I had to go in

not knowing would be as worse

and might hurt other people

if I was now sick.

 

They took me right in

and put me in exam room eight 

my doctor who slightly

resembles Ichabod Crane

strode in like the

headless horseman

was hot on his tail 

but then he just said 

"It's been a busy day." 

He opened my charts and 

there were notes in 

there that looked like

Einstein's chalkboard 

and my heart did a 

small back flip

a point ten on the 

O-lymphic scale

 
But then this tall

 wise man, said... 

"Your aids test is negative." 

as well as your hepatitis test 

in any of it's forms

 as well as any chance of 

infections or contagions"..... blah, blah,blah....

Pheeewwww....my inner 

soul whispered 

.......But!!" he said,

Suddenly............... 

I saw the flash back of John's 

purple and blue face 

superimposed onto mine

for a split second

then he continued.... 

"Your cholesterol level ]\

is a whopping 263...

with LDL which is

the good cholesterol at 33

your bottom number

which is too high it's at 216." 

Your blood pressure during

the stress tests was abnormal

for a man your age

when you were at the

hardest part of the test

 
The ultrasound of your heart

shows a weakening as well.

 
At this point 

therefore I think we should

start you on Lipitor 

to correct your cholesterol levels 

do some Dye testing on

your heart artery's 

then...... if after a month on meds

you still have a high level

there may be arterial blockage

and if that shows up as a problems 

we'll run a heart cath 

to find out where

the trouble lies

by the way your X-rays were normal."

 
Phewwwwww....I think???? 

treatable problems???? 

not impending death??? 

obviously my high cholesterol 

was conspiring behind my 

back to  someday shorten

my vacation plans

one of these years 

not too far off

and then I began to understand 

why I was given the shot 

at saving John 

even though I lost him 

from a massive heart attack

nothing heroic 

just Humanity compounded.

Did God lay a warning 

at the end of my driveway???? 

was John's life meant to end 

and in the process

of expiring in my presence

create a situation 

where I would ultimately

see my own doctor?

and avoid the same fate??? 

or was it all just 

happenstance???? 

The doctor made me

a few appointments

patted me on the back

handed me some lipitor for 30 days

and went off to see the next worry wart 

I felt one small tear of gratitude

slide down the healthy flesh

of my cheek

for God...for John 

a nice guy who even in death

unbeknownst to him 

helped another person out.

I have an obligation now

either way to take up 

the task of being nicer

now that the world has

one less nice person in it 

and to take care of myself 

to avoid winding up

on the end of my driveway

on a trip to get the mail

where I'd finish up becoming

just another message

to some other poor soul

who is on the borderline 

of a major health dilemma.

 
I drove home 

with the windows down 

and a whimsical grin on my face

today was going to be 

a spectacular day !!

Thanks John 

I only wish you could have

been here to see it.

A true story retold.