The day my grandmother had a heart attack

I was on a date,
Drinking cocktails, listening to jazz
At a speakeasy in the village,
My own heart skipping
With excitement,
Throbbing
With joy.

And while they drove her to the hospital
In the frenzied pit of night,
I wonder if I was gazing at the starlight
In her eyes, thinking of a first kiss,
My heart alive
With fear.

As my grandmother felt for her chest
I probably felt for my own,
Clutched my fists,
My palms cold and sweaty,
Loosened the collar of my neck,
Thinking “this isn’t normal,”

And with her face probably pale,
Her body, unsteady
On the hospital bed,
She told my mother
“There’s no need to worry her,”
Because I, dizzy, like a child after a cartwheel,
Was busy with cities and booze

I wonder if she thought of pasts,
As I thought of futures,
Thought of old age,
As I hammered dreams
To my youth

Wrapped tight in white blankets,
Both our hearts drumming,
Beating,
Dying.