night
rain
emergency ward
waiting
i solo
attention fixed on the door
two armenians talking low
a distraught woman
with her sister, three nieces, a neighbour, her daughters, a cousin, husband
they fetch her a bottle of water and a paper handkerchief
outside briefly for air
ambulance lights still flashing
i stand close to nine young men
sharp suits, smart shaves
talking football, money, god, cars, illness
smoking cigarettes
the centre shifts a few paces away from me
the brothers i will never have
i solo
my longing drives straight through me
empty, fragile
running on empty
2 comments:
Brilliant !
thank you, ian !
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