The Late

In a humming white room
mother was up late but unresponsive.
Her face and body hooked into tubes,
We stood around whispering inanities
not listening to our words
just the gasping sounds
of the life support machinery.
A young nurse bustles in:
"Maybe tomorrow
Doctor says it's touch and go."

The next morning it was go
and we were late.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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