Seventeenth of July

The stigma of trauma; with me since the seventeenth of July –
Magpies carried our cries as far as the Bonsai of Shanghai.
Death used his chest as an armrest; enjoying the hue of purple.
Distressed; the priest came to bless his cardiac arrest –
Medical emergency attended to with modern zest.
The aroma of coma; slowed my composure –
Community predicaments – exposed in the enclosure.
Bedside vigilance attended in increments –
Prayers from the innocent; delivered fearlessness.
Five days later, his eyes finally opened, exposing the fear –
Hugging with happiness; the future unclear.
No memory for four weeks; the doctor said there was no certainty –
Angry delirium; he never understood what was happening to him –
Calling with plans of escaping; my heart broken with whims.
Tests, medications, surgeries left him in oblivion –
A condition so rare; they could not cure – it became wearisome.
Agreed to testing; in aid of helping the next generation.
Devastation; an obligation of stabilization from Sudden Adult Death Syndrome –
A modern miracle fought on the battle fields for one more chance –
To say, I love you.

– L.J. Lenehan –

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