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Flowers are blooming on the volunteers’ desk:
Roses, carnations, a spring bouquet,
Dish gardens and gold mums (a more masculine look,
The florist said).
Blooming like a garden
Of well-wishes and sentiment,
Blooming here in the hospital lobby
(Well, after all, it is spring).
Each vase or container bears a card.
What is its destination?
The new mother in Maternity?
“Oh, how pretty,” as she nurses her baby.
Or the woman down the hall?
Whose baby died after a brief flicker of life.
That’s all she’ll take home (this time): flowers.
Maybe to the tough kid on the third floor?
It was just an appendicitis, “no big deal.”
Next week, (or the next), he’ll be back 
With his friends on Saturday night.
“Hey, look at his scar,” “Cool!”
Maybe that one goes to the old man,
You know, the one who’s dying of…something,
They don’t know exactly….old age?
He’d rather be at home in his garden.
A hospital full of people,
But only enough flowers
To cover the top of the volunteers’ desk.
How many patients, (impatient, really)
Will get nothing today?
Here come the couriers with just a few more.
“Let’s go…..hospitals are depressing.”
Even with (especially with) so many pretty flowers
Waiting on the volunteers’ desk.

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