Lady in the waiting room
Vermillion smeared on forehead.
Sandal paste on her neck
Hands buried in beads
Fumbling fingers moving
The mouth chanting a prayer
As her mother’s tired eyes wait
Her hand clinging to her colostomy bag
Patiently, just as the doctor said.
Surely she has come from the temple
And in this cancer hospital she is not alone,
Many come that way
Church, temple, mosque, synagogue
Clinging to life in a clear plastic bag.
The homeless child tries not to stare,
Looks away, whispers softly, to himself,
“Has He ever heard you, then
He to whom you pray?”
So many powerful lines in here:
“Clinging to life in a clear plastic bag.”
“And in this cancer hospital she is not alone, / Many come that way”
And the ending, putting it in the voice of the homeless child — so powerful!
Thank you!
Ouf! Beautiful
Wow! The title tells me the lines at the end hit me like a hurricane. Or a burst of light. We can guess the woman’s prayer but what would the child pray for? What does he hope to find in her answer? I love the richness of this poem — even if I got your intent wrong — and the story of these two people.
Agree with all the messages. Wow!
Love this! I got chills as I read the last lines! Thank you!
Thank you!!!