Spirals Poem by Paula Kneeland

It was a carefree summer day,
when two blond children asked to play
I was but five and he just two,
we ran ahead as young kids do
Fingers front-laced, we started to glide
Our father racing not far behind.
STOP! He called, a little too late,
The ride had started and sealed our fate.
Spiraling down that metal slide
I felt my fingers begin a divide
A shriek. A cry. No laughter here,
For over the edge he fell in fear.
Mothers' hands outstretched too far
An altruistic superstar.
Down, down he tumbled,
all breath ceasing
A scoop and run,
life decreasing.
Leaning over the seat I cried his name
As my father drove faster and overcame
Deaths cold hands reaching down from above
A mother breathing-in new life with love
The nurses, the doctors, the police all came
To find out who was the one to blame
They gave her crayons and coloring books
But no one gave her a second look.
Placed in a coma to help him heal
Our parents in a constant kneel
To the one above, they prayed so hard, to have their baby however scarred
No one could say if he would survive, that day when we were but two and five.