I picture accidents all the time.
All the time.
On the way to Stop & Shop
at that new intersection.
Slipping on the smallest
puddle on a dry sidewalk.
The shower
is popular in my head
despite new grab bars
designed to keep me upright.
On our daily walk
Daisy falls through the icy pond
and I try to save her, then
we’re both stuck out there
and someone has to come.
Yelling Help! Help!
Daisy’s little paws trying
to climb out. I know, I know.
My children tsk tsking.
Who will take care of Daisy?
What will they think
of my messy kitchen,
counters unwashed?
So much to do.
Amazon returns unreturned.
I never picture dying, though,
only being rescued by stretcher
and rushed to the hospital,
the other driver as well
if this is a car accident
which it is.
We’re both fine, bruised,
perhaps a broken bone
or two. That’s all. We
catch each other’s eye
being moved
room to room in the ER,
but we’re too tired
and sore to know.
The delivered packages
still unopened. What kind
of a woman, they’ll wonder,
leaves so much undone?
