Time does not heal
Pale skin, thinning body, balding head. Saying goodbye requires scrubs. Standing at the door to the ward I wait, Until the perpetually rocking door swings open. He steps through gracefully. His teenage skin strangely glowing, Complementing dark brown eyes and his wonderful head of black hair. We embrace. Tears well in my eyes. He smiles and whispers, 'Your sister has had a son.' I feel confused until he adds, 'Never forget how real this is.' Only then do I remember the words I said to the Nurse, 'I want to see my brother. He died here thirty years ago.'
Next Poem >>