Saturday, November 14, 2009

Consciousness of me

Once I fell
Off my grandfather's arms
Tickles and giggles
Hit my chin on the floor
Tooth pierced lower lip
Off for a stitch
Seven of those
Two years old

Nurse holding arms and legs
And my stream of thought,
If only they let go of me
I’ll hold still as they please
Worn in attempts
Little to be done
Pinned on a stretch
I slept the anesthetic

But that sparkling moment
Of self-regulation
Conscious of my own actions

Paves lines to this day

1 comment:

Tumblewords: said...

Gilson, this is wonderful. 'I slept the anesthetic' is an evocative and beautifully worded phrase and thought. The whole poem is a fine read, sends my mind flickering to other 'worlds' after the read. Nice, nice work. Hoping all is well with you.