Her feet, a casual pace
Smoosh woosh smoosh woosh
On the concrete
Through the sliding door
On the speckled linoleum
Under the ubiquitous
Chicken painting in bright colors
Silently clucking (or is it mocking)
Her attempt to look calm.
Her credit card takes care of the co pay.
A wand takes care of her signature.
Her right forefinger, with a slight
Quiver, reaches out to press the
White circle with the Number 2 inscribed.
Woman #2 in a blue checked shirt
Pushes a cart, eyes vague, cast to the side.
She doesn’t want to see the ghostly
Apparitions with their sensible shoes
Smoosh woosh smoosh woosh.
Eggbeater speeds up with
Cuff, tightening.
Plastic clip, gripping the
Formerly quivering forefinger.
She meditates live love live love
To take mind off and lower
The numbers the machine spits out.
Woman #3 with freshly curled hair stands
And asks things like “Medicines?
Exercise? Smoke?”
This abstract that abstract this construct
Off with yours put this on.
She releases herself from her shirt
With a jaunty toss and
Slides into a replica of what
She wore when her baby died
Twenty three years before.
She waits, practiced smile
Slowly fading.
Three gentle knocks on the door.
-- Julie Jordan Scott
<<--->>
This poem reflects the theme of Narrative Poetry as offered by the OctPoWriMo prompt on October 7, 2013. If you have yet to hear of OctPoWriMo,
it is a month long poetry challenge: 31 Poems in 31 Days. As you can
see, it is flexable to a degree - I am not posting this until the
morning of October 3, simply because my mind was crafting it throughout
the day yesterday AND I didn't have adequate keyboard time to get it out
to the world and YOU! Join us and enjoy!!
Comments