Monday, October 19, 2015

Meandering on Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #poetry #aging


Meander 1 - Poem

                                               A Trip to The Morgue

Night is black, dark, quiet.
Silence hovers in your room.
You're dead and I must
Take your body to the morgue
But first I must touch flesh
That breathed with life, pain
Just moments agi.
I never knew you vital.
Only sick, gaunt, yellowed
Dying flesh.
And so I hesitate,
There should be one you loved
To close your marble eyes
And gently shroud your body
In the crinkled paper bag.
Someone you loved should walk with you
Along the halls so dim.
But I'm the nurse.
My duty calls
And so i do those things.
When you're on the stretcher.
A mound and not a man.
The halls are gray
Little eye lights
Vast shadows without end.
We reach the morgue
And I lift you onto the metal tray.
The room is cold
And so am I.

Meander 2 - Anesthesia and old people does not mix. Surgery is necessary to maintain a life but the anesthesia removed brain cells and causes blocks in memory. I wish there was another way to perform surgery.

Meander 3 - Finally came to the end of a draft of Wizards. Wasn't sure I would make it. Not that it stalled since I sort of knew the ending but the ending was blah. So I tore it apart and rearranged the scenes. This story will end with a bang not the whimper that was in the original part of the last two chapters.

4 comments:

Sheila Claydon said...

Love these Janet. I think you must have been a very caring nurse.

Janet Walters said...

Thanks for stopping by. Caring, yes and also scared by facing many things I'd never faced before.

Sydell Voeller said...

Powerful poetry. Although I never had to take a deceased patient to the morgue during my nursing days, I can well relate to what you've written.

Janet Walters said...

Sydell, Thanks for stopping by. This happened in the 1950s when I was working nights. This patient was one who helped me get over my fright of patients dying.