At 7.30am this morning,
cold, ice and frost,
over the road I went, stepping purposefully to avoid a slip,
studying the early morning light,
and then, while standing at the road island at Strowan Road and Rossall Streets,
I remember thinking of painting the railway line,
looking up toward the light,
with shades of violet over blue,
when a heavy scraping sound snapped me out of my dream,
and I looked up,
to see the face of a truck gliding right at me,
a foot or two away from my chest,
I thought, god, this could be it, the end,
my numbers up, I`m gonna die,
shit, I`m bloody annoyed,
as my paint box and easel crash with me to the ground,
but, I`m alive, yes sirree, and I got up to walk away,
staggered a bit,
and slumped to the ground again,
whizzing, cloudy, spatial loss and feeling very bloody off,
moments later I awoke, opened my eyes,
to a cherry face,
a beauty steering down at me from above, blond hair and a generous smile,
and another woman, gently feeling my chest,
I`m a doctor she said,
and I thought,
oh my god, save the lord, for this is heaven.
No comments:
Post a Comment