The torn fingernail
screams.

She carries
its wound

to me
disbelievingly.

I stick it
in my mouth.

Hold its pain
tight between my lips.

Suckle it
into silence.

I tear off the cuff
of my shirt.

Bind it.

I carry her
home in my arms.

Sleep besdie her
sush and soothe her.

After she is
fascinated

by the nail's
attempt to re-establish itself.

Proud of
the scar

at the tip of her
finger.

Later, I will bring her
to see

the monkies dancing
on the organ.

She will laugh
as the tiny man

turns the wheel
and the music

tumbles out
all over itself.

She will tell me she likes
the monkey

with the red scarf
and the white dots

better than
the monkey

with the white scarf
and the red dots.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-monkey-for-ruthie/