the first time I was given morphine, after my back surgery... but I think also the last!
The ceiling melts, swirls and trembles like jelly
A distant throb like a sleeping monster’s belly
Lurks at the edge of the darkened room
As the night uncurls in the hospital womb.
A rather large insect has entered the ward
It trembles with rage at being ignored
It shakes the dew off its foot-high wings
Its body is acrawl with noisome things.
Slowly it approaches my bed quite silent
When suddenly it is arrested by the scent
Of fumes lazily rising from my skin
- from the antibiotic wetsuit I’m in.
The insect is gone but what have we here?
Half the room has begun to disappear
And lies open instead to the sky and weather
A wild wide grassland gone mauve with heather.
But not quite empty nor as bleak as it seems
For now I notice it, it does fairly teem
With stumbling giant and shadowy beasts
Camouflaged in the clothes of the recently deceased.
All headed, ponderous and staggering
All worlds and dimensions reconfiguring
In the direction where, immobile, I lie
Clutching the pain-pump, ready to die...
But no sooner than I close my eyes,
Which at the time seemed most wise,
All is silence and a dark warm rain
Drops down enveloping all pain.
- by Shona Rain