Thursday, October 2, 2008

The Wait

Pale as a starched sheet

Eyes wild and sweat running down his cheeks

Glittering and gleaming like water

Black beetling eyebrows

The room was like cold silence on an arctic night

The words of the nurse, only a breathless monotony

An old coffee cup with dried dregs inside sits on the table

He leaned over life with his hand on the pulse

Waiting for the end of the misery and bliss

Waiting, dying, hoping.

1 comment:

APLITghosts said...

this is very sad. it is like a nursing home moment or hospital scene that we have all witnessed. Your pacing and imagery are right on target. - elmeer