She’s sitting and waiting
in the cold hard plastic
seats given to mourners.
Waiting for news that surely
will shatter her heart
and dreams. Plans made
when she was but a child,
new to the game of love.
White-coats scurry back and fourth
not even glancing.
It is an all too familiar sight
to see a young lady
preparing for bad news.
At last, she begins to doze.
A hand, uncomforting,
descends upon her shoulder.
Her fear of doctors is forgotten
in hope of good tidings.
His eyes are tired and creased,
his surgery mask about his neck.
His mouth moves but no sound
ever reaches her ears.
She already knows.
A deeply pained cry erupts
from the pit of her stomach
as she crumples to the floor
forever to be alone.
White-coats scurry too and fro.
She is just another mourner.
Just another fresh widow.
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Submission Name: mourning (part 1)
