Wednesday, December 05, 2018

Waiting Room





In wheelchair he sits and reads the list
Of medications he takes;
Should Prednisone be listed because he only
Took it four days?
His wife, caregiver, or both sits beside
Him trying to pronounce each prescription.

She sits taut and ridged like the
Words she speaks;
Germanic or Swedish some
Language that’s hardly romantic.
Her son, definitely her son, sits beside her
Affirming roadblocks for each new drug.

A young woman sits there by the window holding
Her phone and talking;
She’s alone except for the voice on the phone
And the company of a cough.
She doesn’t seem to fit with the others though
She shares a sense of the same despair.

I sit and watch them all as they wait for the nurse
To call their name;
Wondering if this waiting is better because
It’s a first world waiting.
Bound to the others by common infirmity still
I bounce and dance out into the rain.



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