Wheel Chair Boogie
Wheelchair boogie.
In thirty minutes I have watched three people wheeled in, and three other people wheeled out.
They come in with one little purse or wallet, some leave with balloons and a bunch of lap stuff.
The latest wheelchair occupant had a chipper attitude.
He was the first one to talk loudly, and proudly.
Wearing a veteran’s hat, an older man, maybe in his seventies.
He seemed thrilled to be here, in admitting, at the emergency room.
Someone asks if he has been here before.
Several others laugh.
His eyes light up, he is a regular.
His name is Frank, and he is whisked in right away.
Others have sat in the chair a few minutes, not him.
A man in a bright green glowing tie-dyed shirt with mostly neon pinks sits down next.
His turn for the wheelchair boogie.
His shirt is not a reflection of his personality.
He sits in silence, looking down at his hands.
Not a peep.
Wheel chair boogie.
Only thing to do in an emergency room waiting room.
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