Lie on the gurney anxiously awaiting
night time, two days since the crash,
hoping they can put it back together.


“Hi,” a quiet pleasant voice addressed me,
turned my head to see a pair of deep blue eyes,
not that tall, looking at me,
in her scrubs, the anesthesiologist.


Tan her face, sort of oval, but
those blue eyes had my attention;
she had been to my room some hours ago,
too doped up to really see her.


“Going to cleanse your system with some O2,
take a deep breath for me.”
One super deep breath, then exhaled,
started a second and it was over. . . . .


Woke up, it was cold, people bustling about
like Grand Central Station.


Started to say, “Let’s get it on,” when
doctor said, “You have 25 pounds of
stainless steel on that leg,
we put it all back together.”


The blue eyed lady smiled at me,
she walked away, again never to see.
Never knew her name, Doctor . . .
all I remember was and is
those deep blue eyes that infatuated me.