Macclesfield Hospital

My younger brother fell in the grass

as we played, and rose

with a thick gash across his knee-cap,

we followed him dirge-like

back to the house.

We took him to hospital

to get it stitched, his screams

pitched like sonar depending

on where the needle was.

They kept him over night.

This place has seen all

of our childish misfortunes

but it is also the place

where my older brother died.

As we left we heard whooping

from a room that sounded like

celebration, my father said

its where they tell you

the bad news,

it was the sound of men

so distraught that they barked.

Later, in the soft glow

of the dash board dials

my father quietly wept

while he drove.