the white hospital

you remember
the cart
overturned,
the old horse
on it's side,
the crack
of a pistol
shot
from a policemen's
gun,
and the blood
of the man
driving
the car that
hit the horse
and the cart
in the busy
intersection.
you remember
staring at
the injured
man as he spoke
in a different
language,
lying on
the back seat
of your father's
turquoise impala,
while he drove
to a white
hospital gleaming
in the sun near
Barcelona.