Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Mary Mageau: GLARE

.
I wash my hands, struggle into a shapeless cotton gown opened at the back then cover my hair with a floppy cloth shower cap. So many drops have left my left eye blurred and burning slightly. A needle in my arm follows and a deep sense of relaxation engulfs me. ‘You’ll be fine now,’ a nurse speaks comfortingly. I barely remember two young men guiding me onto a bed then wheeling me away through double doors into the glare of a large room, where I drift into a dreamless sleep . . .
.

cataract operation —
the pale blossoms
bright yellow


.
by Mary Mageau
Samford, Qld., Australia

No comments:

Post a Comment