Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #250
I Cocked My Head
by Belinda Roddie
I cocked my head as I surveyed the scene -
a man with a broken arm in the aisle,
dozens of broken bottles, and a sheen
of white across the floor's brown and black tile.
I reached for my phone, but it wasn't there.
I remembered I had left it at home
because its battery was low. The hair
on my head bristled as the poor man groaned
from the pain of his splintered bone. I found
a way to maneuver, without slipping,
to where he was huddled by the long rows
of soda and beer. I made a rough sling
out of my shirt and bound his limp elbow
so it would stay stiff. "I do what I can,"
I said. "I'm a decent Samaritan."
by Belinda Roddie
I cocked my head as I surveyed the scene -
a man with a broken arm in the aisle,
dozens of broken bottles, and a sheen
of white across the floor's brown and black tile.
I reached for my phone, but it wasn't there.
I remembered I had left it at home
because its battery was low. The hair
on my head bristled as the poor man groaned
from the pain of his splintered bone. I found
a way to maneuver, without slipping,
to where he was huddled by the long rows
of soda and beer. I made a rough sling
out of my shirt and bound his limp elbow
so it would stay stiff. "I do what I can,"
I said. "I'm a decent Samaritan."
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