Tuesday, October 2, 2012

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.

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