thoughts under a hospital portico |
Parking poem At the university hospital It's easiest with valet And I get to watch the little dramas As they occur Under the portico The elderly man who totters carefully Grinning the while To get a wheelchair for his wife Equally unsteady descending from their car And then, him pushing, They both go inside Still smiling. The lady with the purple hair Who has to be near my age That perfectly matches her tee shirt The young valets Running from portico to the garage Hustling to return cars And pick up tips Such a contrast to most of the customers The blind 40 something woman Like a much younger one With frosted hair And chipped blue nails Wheeled by an aide thru The automatic doors That open for everyone The man in the Dead Head Sleeveless shirt Who makes me think of a Nam Vet He looks the right age And he's ramrod straight as he was in his uniform There's a story inside each one Not being told But being imagined One will have a hip replacement One will schedule oral surgery One will get lost looking for who knows what One will return home to a partner or a spouse Or a child To say, its back With a sob in the back of her throat And find solace in the hugs and tears And one will learn It's a girl And repeat the news to celebration And laughter And the stories will circle Round the portico The young, the aged The healthy, the dying Sorrowing and celebrating Stories not being told here But I see them all As they circle |