Waiting For Doc

hospital's antiseptic ambiance,
   temple of impeccable hygiene,
      the oracle, the doctor, still not in;

the wallclock  looks bored, tired of ticking,
   drags time at an arthritic pace,
      anemic hands round its palsied face;

white coterie thrums down the hallway,
   doc's rounds complete, all waiting in place
      for his diagnostic curse or grace.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Guzzi Avatar
June 27, 2011 at 2:37 PM
great powerful write. Light & Love
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace