Upon hearing
The news
Guttural wails
Of anger
And anguish
Pulsate through
My car
As I rush home
To pack
And make
The next flight

I am met
At my
Front door
By beloved faces
Heavily moistened
Pallid from dread

Within my house
There is
An eerie mood
Of fear
And foreboding
Never before felt

On the frantic drive
To the airport
A question
And a desire
Compete with each other
“What is my son’s true condition?”
“I need to be with him.”

While boarding the plane
My cell phone rings
The doctor’s words
Are dire

“Brain damage
Appears a certainty”

The hatch closes
I squeeze between
Two unknown passengers
Fly into headwinds
Far stronger
Than any
I have ever faced
And write
Three simple phrases
Again and again

“I love you Matt”
“Hang in there, Son”
“I’ll be there soon.”