CPR Certification
A deep lavender hazed
black tinged
bruise encasing the backside
of my hand
from the base
of my opposing hand
repeatedly pounding
the same spot to the tune
of stayin alive
as the make believe
vitals
continue to deteriorate
despite the make believe
meds,
the real sweat-causing efforts,
and after 45 minutes
the instructor announces
an unfortunate
time of death
of the mannequin…
whose entire story
is now nearly identical
to my fathers
just a short 4 months
ago.
2 thoughts on "CPR Certification"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
We’re all in rehearsal for the real thing. Your real thing, your father, came before your rehearsal. True pathos. I’m sorry for your father. The mannequin’s death wasn’t your fault though maybe it will help you save another father. Good poem.
You can feel the deep emotion and hurt in your poem. In your chosen profession, you will save lives, but you will also hear death knocking on the door again. I am sure that the loss of your father has to make this process extra difficult. This is a very well penned message.