3.5.18 (#122) Helping the Sun Rise Over Mountains by Myron Lysenko

We were called back to the hospital
in the middle of the hot night

I was the last to arrive at my brother’s bed
My father was whispering to my sister
as my brother’s girlfriend massaged
his cold feet as he lay there in his young coma
his long black hair tied back in a bun

his long black beard hiding his mouth

his long tanned body covered in a sheet
the needle marks in his arm disappearing
the hands of the clock fluttering
the noises of the machines keeping him alive

his blood pressure slowly dropping

his temperature slowly rising

the four of us bending closer to his face
my father standing by his head
my sister leaning over his heart

his girlfriend still trying to soothe his soles
my hands grasping his right hand

until the nurses rush in calmly
asking us to wait in the waiting room

while my brother floats out through his window

helping the summer sun rise over the mountains