Hallways

I spend a lot of time between
doors
walking out of the hospital room
away from my mother’s body
lifeless
other side of the door is the hospital hallway
on the right
down the hallway
to the right, are more doors
doors on the left — doors to the right
the hallway is ugly
carts and other things that are moving —
hospital things
carts on wheels
clanging, hanging, swerving
like — small blue plastic bags and cords that are attached to smallish machines that can ascertain things like the frequency it pulses

also — on the other side of the hospital door
the walkway
the little walkway
garage and the door to the house —
the house on reese court
to get to the house —
just a few steps
a climbing rose rambles comfortably
amorously
between the two structures
lofty, pinky rose petals
float
have dropped
onto the ground
when i go up the two steps to the house I smell the roses
it smells like heaven

2005, Spain

Such a pretty story.

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Writer. Rememberer. Forgeterer. During surgery I lost 90% of my memories. And all of my hair. These days I write about life, or lack thereof.

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Michelle O'Kane

Michelle O'Kane

Writer. Rememberer. Forgeterer. During surgery I lost 90% of my memories. And all of my hair. These days I write about life, or lack thereof.

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