Friday 25 August 2017


You could crick your neck in here,
Waiting for their arrival.

The slats let little in. Light
From the other side is thin.

Every footfall, every apron
And pair of plastic gloves rustles

In warning of their imminence.
Their eminence, one might think.

My heart is grouchy today,
A tired, scrappy thing; cross

About the new PICC line they put
In. Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter,

In case you were wondering; a long, soft
Tube snaking in to the Superior Vena Cava,

Indwelling, one hopes, temporarily. Tea lady
Now, cleaner next, obs third, and on the neck cricks

On the neck cricks on.  
(c) Shaista Tayabali, 2017 Included in Dverse Poetry Pub's latest Open Link Night...


Frank Hubeny said...

Best wishes on recovering health. Your poem well described the waiting process.

brudberg said...

The scenery at the hospital so tightly described...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Hospitals are full of such busyness and noise. I once wrapped a pillow around my head so tightly, i didnt hear or respond to the doctor when he came. Freaked him out. Lol.i hope you are home soon, my friend.

Roslyn Ross said...

Honouring the moment is an important part of healing.

Gayle Walters Rose said...

I've known others who have this troubling illness. I wish you the best as you find your way to health again. When I was last in the hospital I wanted my door kept shut so I could have as much quiet as possible. Most who entered had to be reminded to shut it again...or I would get out of bed and go shut it myself. Luckily, I was able to.
Gayle ~

Unknown said...

Freaked him out. Lol.i hope you are home soon, my friend.


Click to leave a comment