My wife and I are especially happy tonight – after a long day of fretting and fear, our little boy has left the hospital with only a few stitches in his nose.
During those hours when we didn’t know, when we were waiting for the CT results, my thoughts came out as the following piece. I always say that I don’t write poetry, and yet, sometimes my writing looks just a bit like it.
My boy is in their care
Men wearing masks study
Seek inside, analyze, diagnose
Fate in their hands, fear in my head
Pacing linoleum halls,
Blind to all but my own
The fall repeats in fevered memory
That damned second my hands weren’t there
A messenger at last. My heart misses a beat.
Fates have been kind to mete out this goodness
Despite hours lost, anticipation spent,
Relief is all I need to feel.
We leave the sterility
Our blessings plain,
Our joy immeasurable.