Hospital Curtain; A Poem by Scott C. Waring

Hospital Curtain; A Poem by Scott C. Waring

Sirens, Medical Personnel, echoing of a child’s scream down long arid halls.
Parents pacing upon the bland tiles to avoid the bright orange chairs.

A freshly waxed floor glistens under the florescent lights.
“Baba, I’m scared.”
“Oh snuggle bug, be brave.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

A nurse probes his ears and mouth and then gently takes his hand to measure his pulse.
“Baba I’m not going to cry,” with water eyes.
“I know you won’t.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

A gurney comes to a rest with a middle age man, drooling and mumbling incoherently.
“Baba, why is he laying down?”
“He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

Outside the hallway, a man holds his newborn in one arm and angrily wave’s chest x-rays at the doctor.
“Baba, why is the man yelling?”
“He is scared for his child.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

The nurse tells us to come into a small room so that she can put in an IV needle.
“Baba please don’t let them hurt me!”
I lean over his chest to help hold him down, to keep him from hurting himself.
“You’re my brave boy.”
“No,” he sadly coos.

A nurse robotically leads us and two other sets of parents with kids to the elevator and up to the eleventh floor.
“Baba where are we going?”
“We have to stay here for a few days. Till you feel better.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

Sharing a room, sharing children, sharing pain but please not that girl’s grandmother.
“Baba it’s loud in here.”
“Shush, the girl’s tummy hurts.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

The little girl lay in her bed all alone, no family to consol her, staring at the boy in the next bed as his mother and father play with him.
“Baba where’s the girls mother?”
“She has no mother,” he said, knowing the cruelty of breast cancer.
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

The sky outside the window darkened and everyone began to ready for sleep.
“Baba lay down,” he said pointing to a thin fake leather bench along the wall.
“I’m not tire yet,” I murmur over the girls crying beyond the curtain.
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

Pacing the room before the window reveals a rare sunrise and a few hours peace before cries from next bed awaken all.
“Baba good morning!” he yells with a smile that challenges the sunrise.
“Hush, that girls finally sleeping.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

A pack of nurses led by two doctors enter the room and surround the boy’s bed.
“Baba hold me.”
“They are just here to check on you.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

A nurse takes out the boys IV needle and smiles kindly to him handing him a sticker.
“Baba it’s all gone,” he said happily showing his wrist.
“They said we can go home in a few hours.”
“Oh,” he sadly coos.

The boy and his parents pack up their belongings and begin walking towards the door.
“Baba wait,” he ran and handed the little girl his toy horse.
“You made her very happy,” he said kissing his sons forehead.
“Oh,” he sadly coos.