Clock Watchers

Sitting in the antiseptic waiting room

Trying to avoid each other’s eyes

Knowing that we are all there for the same reason

And it isn’t pretty

Some moms and aunts and grandmas politely smile

At the tag-a-long toddler to kill time, fill space

In the cloying atmosphere

Until he screams, screams, screams

Because we all want to do that, too:
Lose our filters, lose control

Instead we check unimportant updates

On our cell phones

While trying to pretend that we are not staring at each other,

Sizing up the person ahead of us

With his thinning hair and talc skin,

Wondering how some partners willingly came along for support

While others got roped into being there for a ride

Or for some cruel sort of punishment

Becoming numb to the wait, the lines, the worry,

Recognizing the un-indoctrinated to a system

Of circumstances beyond control, beyond hope

(I hope not!)

Regardless of belief or non-belief of the reality or of a deity

We all murmur a prayer before it’s our turn

Hoping that we come out alright,

Hoping that we come out at all

To live through another wait

In that uncomfortable waiting room,

Avoiding the stares,

And wondering about the same faces
On another day.