The September Blanket

The September Blanket

The woolen September
red, white and black pattern blanket lies
on the lonely shelf
covered with light dust
He lies in his white hospital bed
left side of his brain hurting
surgeries to remove the disease

Meanwhile his wife is in labour downstairs
sometimes hope is just a moment in time
lasting like the sound heartbeat on the cardiac monitor by his bed
as reality weighs over him in the room
like a grenade beating in his heart
and the string is reality of his health

Sometime his thoughts drift
and the string pulls itself
exploding his heart from the inside out
spraying blood all over the walls and ceilings
The nurses have to come in and laboriously clean it up
on step stools wiping blood down with white cloth
turning to heavy red weights in their hands
wringing it in the blood water colored bucket
to pass on the walls again
and to clear the windows to let the light in again
start of most lives, the water is clear and bubbly
once life the heart ends the water becomes red and heavy
then one of them is mopping the ceiling
arms over exhausted running a few passes
hit the cracked fluorescent light cover
it shatters and falls to the ground
another job for the sweepers

He may not hear their newborn cry
he’s awakened by the nurses moving his bed
with the widest smiles he’s seen in a while
they decide to bring him downstairs
to be with his wife, that he hears her cries from outside
they wheel him in quietly as a surprise
like the first day they met
they park his bed next to hers
like cars in the parking lot huddled together
he sees his wife exhausted with the labour

she gives him that exhausted look he knows too well
and he lies there, extending his hand for support
she takes hold of his supporting her during the life giving session
the grenade disintegrating from his heart
while she gives birth to their lovely daughter
she holds her with joy and smile
they both share wide smiles

He is unable to talk well
the nurses place their baby on him
weighting lightly on his chest
like the softest pillow
And he touches her hand and shoulder
and rests it on her small frame
he talks to her the way he can
as she lays sleeping
the feeling indescribable for them

He thought the blanket of September
would be cold and plastic covering his head
and wrapping around his cold body
but he can breathe again and hope for now
as all three smile with each other
Let the woolen red, white and black pattern blanket
of September fly off the shelf
shaking off its old dust
swirling and refreshing itself in the air
spreading across both beds and landing
and hugging them to keep them warm
on a new day in life

©2016 Rajinder

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