Day 13: Poem/a/Day: Walk in the Hospital

THE BOY

I. HOSPITAL WALK

It takes ten legs squeaking in sneakers
And eight rubber wheels heavily humming
On the checkered, sparkling linoleum floor
To move a boy with a tumor
From one hospital floor to the next, for emergency tests.

Ine nurese, one doctor, a technician leading the way,
Mom and dad, trailing the speeding parade
With teddy bears and balloons
And faces full of frowns,
Surrounding a white crib

And a mobile IV tower that thrashes like an octopus fished from
water.
Whisk.
Kicking down the hallways.
Onlookers flattened against the walls.
Get out of the way.

But in the corner of my eye in, but a second, in the hall,
I saw, parked by herself on a gurney,
A fossil of an old woman lying on a mop
Of white hair, everywhere, framing the skeleton of her face
Like a crazed witch, no longer Queen

Dancing in the ballrooms with hopeful men,
Clinking wine glasses at her wedding,
writing checks to her favorite charities,
Working in presidential campaigns,
Leading her children’s PTA meetings,

Now, paralyzed with a gaping open, mouth vacuumin air
Through purple lips and cavernous eyes of horror,
Abandoned in a hospital hallway.
Making room for us.
Waiting her turn.

by Bob Trezise

Bob Trezise is likely the only poet in Michigan who is also an economic development director. Trezise, who is the CEO of LEAP (Lansing Economic Area Partnership), by day deals with acronyms and attracting new business to the Lansing area; by night he writes poetry.