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Photo by bharath g s on Unsplash

Poetry | September/October 2022

What Is True

By Catherine D’Andrea

It is true
that my son ran
across a length of bleachers,
his denim jacket, unbuttoned,
lifting out behind elbows
as he flew down the steps
two or three yards to our right,
racing
toward his father and me.
 
It is true
the arena was cold,
loud with light and color, the crowd
moving behind us
to and from the concession stand
as we stood
near the half boards of the hockey rink,
near the other moms
to my left.
 
It is true
that my husband, to my right,
was a little closer to our son
as he approached.
 
But it is also true
that a scattering of freckles
and baby blue eyes
turning (from me?) up to his dad
were only partially blocked
by my husband's body
as I was turning back
to our ladies' conversation.
 
It is true
I turned back again
(was it one second? two?)
to hear my husband
shout through the din
"Can you breathe?"
only then to see the pleading look,
the slow shake of head,
to see my husband
grab him
turn him
bend
with arms around him
hard and fast
pull in—
once?
twice?
 
It is true
I saw something black rise
from my husband's back,
like years of his life—
or death—
as the Fireball 
lodged in our son's throat
flew out.
 
It is true
all of us were shaken,
but my husband saved him.
Our son was okay.
 
Nearly twenty years later, I think about it, what I didn't see, 
and how I turned away.

8 replies on “What Is True”

Julie Czerendasays:
September 22, 2022 at 9:00 am

I felt every beautiful word. You have a gift, my friend. I need more!

Reply
Catherinesays:
September 23, 2022 at 6:24 am

Aw, Julie…

Reply
Dwight Butlersays:
September 24, 2022 at 9:35 am

I pictured everything you said

Reply
Catherine D’Andreasays:
September 24, 2022 at 11:16 pm

Thank you, Dwight!

Reply
Mia Kimsays:
October 1, 2022 at 8:40 am

I can smell the concession stand, and see the faces of happy, chatty ladies and a boy running down and down. Like a film clip running in half speed. I can feel the mother’s shock and guilt–on those few casual seconds that could have devastated her world.

A powerful poem made poignant by the poet’s gift for understatement.

Reply
Catherine D'Andreasays:
October 4, 2022 at 6:27 am

Thank you for your generous remarks, Mia.

Reply
Cynthia Gadrasays:
November 27, 2022 at 9:53 pm

Wow! I felt so many different emotions as i read this . It’s beautiful, poignant, scary and I breathed a sigh of relief as if I was there.

Thank you!

Reply
Tinasays:
December 13, 2022 at 4:30 pm

Catherine,

You have an amazing gift for understatement! This poem made the adrenaline rush through my veins 20 plus years later.

Reply

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