The Day Donny Drowned - (Non-Fiction Poem) | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: The Day Donny Drowned - (Non-Fiction Poem) | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dusty Fontaine
03/12/14
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“Stay away from the deep end,” Momma cried
to me and my sister as we left her side.
“Go to the shallow end to splash and play.”
Since Donna was older, she answered, “okay.”

“And take Donny with you!” we heard Mother yell.
“Oh, Mom…” Sissy whined, quite upset -- I could tell.
“Dustin’s only four but at least he can swim;
“but two year old Donny – I’ll have to hold him.”

“Just let him wiggle and wallow a bit.
“I’m sure he’ll have fun then get tired of it.
“When he is done, bring him back here to me.”
We entered the water – we siblings -- all three.

While I swam and frolicked, my sister just stood
spinning my brother as fast as she could.
In a few minutes, he yelled and he cried,
so Sis sat him down on the edge, at poolside.

“Go over to Mommy!” She pointed the way.
“I’m your big sister – so do what I say!”
She watched as he headed toward our mother’s chair,
but turned and dove in before he was there.

Ten minutes later Mom’s voice broke the fun.
“Where is your brother? Where is my son?”
Donna looked frightened. “I sent him to you.”
“I told you to bring him, he’s only but two.”

Everyone scoured, every Aunt, Cousin, friend –
‘till I saw something bobbing down in the deep end.
“Look! Over there!” They followed my finger.
A small body floated -- seemed to just linger.

“Donny! It’s Donny!” Mother let out a shout.
“Somebody hurry and get my son out!”
My sister swam to him, pushed him over the side.
His blue lifeless body there on the deck lied.

My mother, distraught, was whisked to a chair.
The boy needed help but no one would dare.
Grandma remembered, “There’s a nurse – if she’s home…”
“Someone run over and see if she’ll come!”

A few seconds later a lady appeared.
She ran to his side; got the area cleared.
She felt for a pulse and said there was none.
Everyone sighed, but she wasn’t quite done.

Tilting his head back, and pinching his nose;
when she blew in his mouth , his whole chest arose.
Looking more purple as minutes ticked by,
my mother was screaming, “Why -- oh God -- why?”

The adults were watching, their eyes filled with tears.
Many had their heads down, lifting up prayers.
It seemed it was useless, little Donny would die;
but then he spewed water and started to cry.

The ambulance arrived, and took him away;
but the red flashing lights weren’t needed that day.
A miracle happened, the doctors all said:
“There is no good reason that Donny’s not dead.”

My family rejoiced and gave God the glory.
I praise Him anew by sharing this story.
One thing I’ve learned is that God’s always there.
He comforts our hearts and our deep-end despair.

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