the walk June, 1976—PIC-U: pediatric intensive care unit he’s still alive, I thought shaking, one foot, then another toward the PICU door that’s all I knew no one had prepared me for what to expect antiseptic smell, machines flashing, clanging bustling nurses I’m led to a steel crib can't take in what I see blinking lights a tangle of tubes, wires all attached to my son he’s gray, his sweet little chest ruined— six inches of blood-stained staples not even a straight line I grip the bars hard what have we done
xo.
💜