Hole In The Windshield

Somehow, in the hospital, I awake.

There's nothing shocking about this; why?

After all, didn't I almost die?

It's funny how I have this disjointed take

of the surroundings where I lie. 

 

Somehow, at home,  do I awake.

At more familiar surroundings, I sigh.

Now in my 90's waterbed, do I lie.

Was I not just at the lake

with my friend by my side?

 

Somehow, in the living room, do I awake.

Two dogs staring at me - eye to eye. 

My explosive head makes me want to die. 

How much more pain can I take 

as I sit there not knowing why?

 

Somehow, in the hospital, I reawake.

Holding a hand as I lie on my side.

I feel the needle slowly slide up my spine. 

Searing pain and a jolt will make 

a helping hand ache and a mortal cry.

 

Somehow, 25 years later,  I awake

thinking of how those days changed the tide. 

What happened? Those memories still hide.

It's funny to think of the path you take

when you find out you can die.