Hospital Walk

It takes ten legs squeaking in sneakers And eight rubber wheels heavily humming On the checkered sparkling linoleum floor To move a boy with a tumor From one hospital floor to the next For emergency tests One nurse one doctor a technician leading the way Mom and dad Trailing the speeding parade with teddy bears and balloons And faces full of frowns surrounding a white crib And a mobile I.V. tower Thrashing like an octopus fished from water Whisk Kicking down the hallways Onlookers flattened against the walls Get out of the way And as all this passes by From the corner of my eye I see a creature on a gurney Unattended Parked to the side Fossil of old woman with her head resting On a mop of white hair Everywhere Her skeleton face framed like a crazed witch No longer Queen dancing in the ballrooms Toasting friends writing checks signing up her volunteers Here she is Abandoned Vacuuming the stale air through her purple pursed lips Eyes locked on my boy Make way Make way.