My First Symphony

Katherin Pope

I stand an obedient observer

of the code unfolding before me.
A symphony of staff
each taking their place
before the music begins.
The doctor
the conductor
enters the stage.

You lay
a mere 29 inches long
on that hospital bed.
The staccato of your tiny heart
compressed
just two thumbs
against your chest.
The metronome of breaths
pushed into your lungs
Keep perfect time.

Airway, Breathing, Circulation,

The only ABC’s you’ll ever know.

“It’s time to bring the family back.”

She’s Spanish, he’s French.
Accents roll thick
between tears.
Your mom falls to her knees
and begs
for just one more movement.
A final note ringing in the air.

That music
still with me.