New (but old) Poetry #2

Returning once again to the creative writing world of poetry, after a short break. I have been digging around in my note books for some woebegone lines that I could work with for a new post.

A few months, I along with some friends (who are ex-colleagues), were holidaying in Ibiza - cheeky little May break: sunshine, Vit D and a few vinos by the pool for good measure. One friend stayed on, having left her job, and was working there as a freelance photographer. During her stay she had a terrible accident and fell from her apartment balcony. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news.
She was in a coma.


Since, she has or rather is making her recovery: she can walk, laugh and hasn't lost the bug for exploration and is travelling again (right now in fact!) which it what brought this poem to mind.

I remember dictating it into my phone on a journey. It came to mind as I was driving. It was late. Car lights were on and were passing me by one by one. It made me think of what it might be like to be in a coma.
Do we have an awareness of the outside world?
Is the world a series of light and dark, of movement without form, with slightly hallucinogenic qualities to it?
Can we hear sound? Make out voices? and words?
Are words meaningful in a coma?

So, this is the poem for my brave and beautiful friend, V.

Blank

I heard
that
my friend
was in
a


coma.




and my mind went bl----nk.
bl--ank.
Blank.

I reached out for h--
the words
through the darkness for words
for condolences
for kindness
for some
thing
to
say.
any thing. anything. anything of something.

What can you say,
what can you do?


A coma.


A what?
A retching pain in my stomach and
the feeling of
hope...
Hope.

So I wish -
a quick recovery!
a safe return, to consciousness, amongst other things.
Repairable injuries.
No long lasting damage
my friend.

My friend
was in a coma.

And my mind went - - - - -