Friday, October 21, 2011

Hospital, Afternoon

You sit, wrinkled in the bed
trying not to clutch at the tubes
feeding you pain

In fairness, they asked
explained the good cause
You agreed

From noon, minute to minute
hour after hour
the desert of pain stretches
waterless, withering, bitter, burning

And weep, though you wish to howl
howling would upset the sweet keepers
who worry about you

Burning salt sand
leaks from eyes
nose, misery blocked

Holding on for life to the
softest bear in the world
gift of the softest heart

At four, they call it off
and go home
Reason vanished

Tomorrow's good enough,
after all

17 October 2011

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