Friday, October 23, 2009
punctuated only by the soft murmurs
of the nurses at their station
waiting for that beacon of light
summoning them to attend to their ward.
I hesitated to enter your rooom
and smell the antiseptic bed,
the thin white blanket and pillow cases
that unmasked putrid odor of death
lingering in the air.
life is that tiny droplet of liquid
entering your numbed vein;
life is the steady whir of the machine
bubbling away with each strenuous breath;
life is that tube stuck in your nose
where they feed you liquid food
blended with morphine.
We are unmindful of the torrential rain
that pours outside, impatient with each drop
of sugar in your IV, urging the bubbles
to go faster and faster.
you are safe within the confines
of this sterilized room. Pain
has wandered off for now
and you are breathing peacefully
maybe dreaming of another time.
the light flickers,