The green line makes
Mountains on the monitor
And that steady
Beeping
Pulses a lullaby.
I grasp your hand like
An anchor.
Although I know your
Wings ache to
Spread
Beneath dusty sheets.
I suppose I’m
Selfish really. You said
I shouldn’t light
Any candles
For you. I feel the guilt
Burning me;
My hope is a blossoming
Flame in a lonely
Chapel.
Still I pray that
Somehow my voice is
Getting through.
Even though part of me knows
It’s just white noise.
Suddenly
I’m left
Screaming
With the
Monitor.
The
Machines
Begin their
Elegy as
The emerald
Line races
Into Oblivion.
Flatliner
Published by MistakenMagic on September 25, 2008 - 20:08
from the ABC set The Poet Who Fell in Love
from the ABC set The Poet Who Fell in Love
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | September 25, 2008 - 23:38
Magic - how poignant this is. These lines especially:-
"Although I know your
Wings ache to
Spread
Beneath dusty sheets."
A beautiful poem that speaks volumes in but a few well chosen words.
Tina:-)
MistakenMagic | September 26, 2008 - 15:09
Thank you Tina! I find the hospital quite an intriguing theme in poetry and love to play around with it, this is also evidence that I watch far too much ER, Casualty and Holby City :)
Firebird | October 21, 2009 - 22:38
This is a beautiful poem. Very emotive.