The Bundle
The sun was shining
as I drove
into the village.
Several people on
the kerb stared at
a bundle in the road.
A car was parked
on the grass verge.
As I slowed down
a man crouched by
the bundle and held
the hand of the child
whose arm protruded
limply from beneath
someone’s coat.
‘An ambulance is coming.
Nothing you can do.
Nothing anyone can do.’
The child had run
in front of the car.
I drove home,
Told my wife and,
a little later,
sat down to dinner.
Then a tingling sensation
trickled through my brain
and I began to shake.
My wife took me
in her arms where
I sobbed uncontrollably.
'It’s shock, delayed;
let it out;
you’ll be all right.'
May 1992.
Copyright by D. J. Brennan, Derbyshire.
