The Fall
It was time to check out
After shopping in the store.
In the lane I turned about
And promptly crashed to the floor.
Usually I push the cart,
This time I was a contrarian
And in narrow space made a quick dart
A move not good for a septuagenarian.
With loss of all control
I could but let the flow carry on
Bracing not parts but the body whole
Descending with force to the concrete lawn.
It took only one second or two
For my steadiness to leave,
Lay on my side not knowing what next to do,
Standing I could not achieve.
Looking up, on her knees she beside me,
“Are you alright?” her petition.
“I’m not sure, I could be.”
She made me to talk to her, that was her mission.
A cold bottle of water she gave me to drink,
She wasn’t going to leave me undone.
More questions she asked made me talk and think,
While the store manager dialed 9-1-1.
“Are you married, and for how many years?”
I told her a half century one month after March,
Almost thirty years for her was near.
I was then beginning to feel parched.
“I want to stand up, will someone help me?”
The store manager suggested I stay on the floor,
That lady still talking and still on her knee,
As eight paramedics came in through the door.
They checked all my vitals
And questioned me a lot,
They suggested the ER,
I said “I’d rather not.”
Upon my release
I returned to my cart,
To pay for my groceries,
I needed to complete my transaction part.
I asked the cashier,
“Where’s the lady on her knees?”
I wanted to thank her.
She had disappeared in a breeze.
Making sure I not faint,
She unknown, a perfect stranger.
Her attention was of a saint,
Her mission, a caring angel.
