I floated
to the ceiling
& stuck there
like a Christmas balloon
then I slowly
drifted
through the open window
startling
a passing starling
amazed at a human
invading his space.
There was a silly smile
on my face.
My other body
lay on the bed
wrestling with a temperature
of 103 degrees.
There was I
& there was me
both of
us
in this
together.
I swimming
through the air
getting caught
in the gossamer
strands of bird song
clinging on to me
like cobwebs
while the real me
who appeared to be really ill
burned
alive
in
himself.
The smell of sausages
ran up the stairs
as I faded
into a wallpaper rose
dissipated
like a ghost
amongst
the dust motes
crying for the coolness
of my big sister’s flannelled hand.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-smell-of-sausages-for-helen/
