Shadowing the Medivac

He's already in the car, an hour's drive

he can't allow himself to think, just drive

in the helicopter's shadow peeling

silently over the hills, silently, like nothing

is happening inside, nothing going on,

can't think of anything newborn

zooming through the sky, an ounce of brain

racked by seizures, blue-skinned, underweight

and Swiss cheese for a heart.    

What's in the rearview, eh? Anything coming?

Cars? Trucks? Glare and a crab-red face deformed

with thoughts of beats and breathing tubes,

and ahead, old magazines on tables, waiting rooms

where doctors lead men and women into offices to sob

oh my god oh god oh jesus no...

And some of the most beautiful scenery in this country

can be found along our many well-maintained highways.

Shield rock, tamarack swamp and pine groves

line the winding thoroughfares between our cities. He is still

driving, he can see the city coming up. The helicopter

must have arrived already, in Toronto, where they fiddle

inside her rib cage with the sanitary version of a bicycle tire

repair kit....and he's on his way to the hospital, he'll get there,

he's coming, he's keeping his eye on the road.

~Paul Vermeersch