Hospital Patient
I stand in the doorway of my husband's hospital room
And look at the woman lying in bed across the hall,
She is the only patient my husband can see from his position,
But he's not well enough to be curious about his neighbors,
I imagine we are all that she can see
As I feed him and give him sips of water,
I cannot walk across the hall and visit her,
My husband is in isolation and I must remain
Yellow gowned and rubber gloved.
I cannot tell how old she is,
I see her lying on her back with only
Her face and hair showing above the covers,
Sometimes her hair looks blonde, sometimes silver,
A young middle-aged man in weary clothes comes every day
And he does for her what I do for my husband,
He feeds her and gives her sips of water,
If he is her son, he is devoted,
If he is her husband, she is lucky,
I stand in our doorway and she looks my way,
I flutter my fingers in a wave,
She doesn't see, she is looking beyond me,
And then her face changes and she is focused,
She slips her hand from under the blanket
And waves back,
I think she smiles.
Irma "Mimi" Rockwell, April 13, 2010
