4 times I've kissed
the gaping maw of death,
one covered in a
wash of blood,
from a armless face plant
into concrete.
I can still taste the coppery
tang of it on my lips.
Begging someone,
anyone to get me a towel,
to clear the blood
so that I could
help him breath.
but he was dead
before he hit the ground,
my efforts were wasted,
but how could I let
a man die, when I
knew how to help him.
Another was just
a two year old,
with no known reasons
for her failure to breath,
tiny lips pressed to mine,
tiny breaths blown,
and gentle heart massage
so as not to break
the fragile ribs,
tiny eyes fluttered,
and I cried,
for she came back,
to embrace life, and me.
The next was a
strong black man,
who just keeled over,
on my watch,
I beat on his chest,
and blew prayers
into his lungs,
but he was gone,
Massive stroke.
I removed a
pack of camels
from his shirt pocket,
sadly shaking my head,
as I tossed them
into the trash,
while his stretcher
rolled away.
The last was a boss,
in a grocery store,
I came in from making rounds
and a crowd of people,
were standing around
watching him turn blue.
He had choked on
some corn on the cob,
and was dying.
I screamed at
the penguin crowd,
"What the hell's
the matter with you people!"
As I pounded him
on the back,
and cleared his throat
with my fingers,
and then put him
into a Heimlich maneuver.
Then he expelled
the blockage of corn
forcefully all over the crowd,
I just smiled,
as they all finally jumped
while he gasped
a most precious
breath of air.
Take a CPR course,
learn what you need to do,
What if it were your mother?
your lover, your husband?
your wife, your baby?
Are you gonna stand
there and watch them die?
God I hope not.
Believe me,
the guilt eats at you,
when someone dies
in front of you,
even after you have
done all that you could.
Two hours of training
versus a lifetime lost.
You do the math.
Silver trophy winner
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