The shadowy hospital setting
where no parent wants to take their child -
until sickness prevails.
Upon entry, multiple staring faces
populate the waiting room
Soon, we statue with them,
sat upon uncomfortable chairs,
beneath bright fluorescent lights,
while clock-hands crawl emptily
because on the NHS
time is free.
Hands, Face, Space. Relief
when it’s our son’s turn to be treated.
Maternal care hands over to
with his vital stats being captured
due to doses of kind chatty coaxing.
While watching, I wordlessly plead
“Please help him get better”.
And eventually, under the influence of
medicine, advice, and a prescription,
Pushing the door release button,
we exit into fresh nighttime air,
feeling glad to leave
The twinkly stars in heaven above
reflect our smallness and our strength.