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Sunday Sanitarium

Bernadette Langer Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled Sunday Sanitarium which was written by poet Bernadette Langer. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Sunday Sanitarium

You knew by then there wasn't much left,
except wandering sterile halls--
amid blackened lungs; 

Where time meant nothing--
fading into insipid yesterdays, 
knitting needles complicating--
tomorrow's worried hands;

Age, flattened numbers--
held tightly against your heaving bosom,
as if engraved with loss's stone endearments.

Charred coughs loudly wheezed--
spitting hope upon white cloths,
yellowing expectation--
between porcelain veneered smiles.

But you walked, smiling anyway--
around gurneys with little slippered feet.
Blond hair capturing sunlight--
through slanted windows;

Waiting for those Sunday visits,
when youthful optimism raced up stairs,
where it was greeted with nothing--
but grown-up lies.

Did you know I hated you then?
For no comfort could be given--
amidst such blatant denials,
preparation never kissed any lips.

Now conversations interminably hang--
like unfinished tapestries;
Threads slipping through fingers--
leaving me grasping at each moment's meaning...

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  1. Date: 10/11/2009 10:19:00 PM
    You're a gifted writer, Bernadette. Thank you for sharing your soul-baring work. Hugs, Donna

  1. Date: 6/17/2009 2:44:00 PM
    Beautiful poem.