Accepting Blood by Scott Cairns
Scott is probably my favorite poet. His gift is his ability to take an ordinary moment – and a small one (though the sample below is not a small one) – and hold it before me, to stun me, to hypnotize me, and then to fade back and leave my day better and life brighter than before his art touched me. Accepting Blood put me on the gravel walkway beside the house in Seattle where we lived when I was in fifth grade and my brothers were still small. The poem made me ache for love for my brothers – at that age and in the child-deep connections that have carried with us 30 years later and will always bind us.
Accepting Blood by Scott Cairns
As my brother lost his footing
along the slick weeds beside our
beach house, keeping his balance meant
shooting his arm through the glass
of a side window. His blood
was immediate and simple.
There wasn’t time to pull back
his clothing, to inspect
the damage, or to give much thought
to anything, only time
to grip him where his coat
was reddest, and to grip him hard
at the hinge of his shoulder.
I held him like that until his blood
had colored most of what I wore,
until we reached the hospital,
where the nurse could finally
replace my hands with gauze,
and there was nothing left
to do, but let him go.
What stirs in you when you read this? How far does the emotion reach for you?
