The clatter cart
hobbles down
sterile white tile
hallway
little square rooms
patients wait
watching clock minutes move
like tragic soldiers
circling round
batting down
against the ravages
of affliction
The clatter cart
hobbles down
sterile white tile
hallway
little square rooms
patients wait
watching clock minutes move
like tragic soldiers
circling round
batting down
against the ravages
of affliction
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Nice poem and pic. I especially like the “clatter cart hobbling down the hallway.” Florence Nightengale would approve. 🙂
Thank you, Joan. I think Florence might approve also 🙂
Heartbreaking, Lana. The sensory details perfectly capture the sterile and bleak environment. Beautiful.
Thanks Diana. It is a bit bleak, I’m afraid…..
Yes, but beautifully told.
Unfortunately, quite accurate.
Very true.
It is bleak – and accurate! Sadly. I always say hospital is not a good place to be if you are unwell……..
I agree, not a good place to be at all….
L’ospedale conserva i suoi tipici rumori ed il solo pensiero mette l’ansia.
Ti leggo tradotta perciò spero di averne capito perfettamente il senso.
Ciao.
Ciao. Penso che avete ben capito il significato. Grazie per la lettura. I minuti trascorsi in ospedale trascinare su, sia per i malati e coloro che li amano. Ho scritto questo su tante persone che affrontano la malattia cronica. Apprezzo i vostri commenti, grazie ancora.
Captures my time in hospital exactly – although it was the clatter cart of the tea-machine approaching. Oh, how I watched that clock…for once time passing tragically slowly. Love this, Lana!
Thank you Annika 🙂 I’m familiar with clock watching in hospitals, it truly crawls. I would welcome a tea machine, though. It’s my favorite drink courtesy of my grandmother who was of Scottish ancestry.
Is that good old-fashioned normal tea or herbal tea? I only drink the latter but had trouble finding them in the States! My husband is addicted to ‘builders tea’ as he calls it – PJ Tips and Yorkshire Tea his favourites. (Although I always did wander about tea plantations growing on the cold moors!)
Well for me, it’s the old fashioned normal tea, ha ha. You can find herbal tea here in the States, I think Walmart has many of them and most likely the health food stores. I like the sound of cold moors, so mysterious 🙂 My grandmother drank hot tea in a fancy little cup, but the other grandma was in to iced tea which of course is the main drink of the South.
Beautifully written, though certainly on the gloomy side! Hospitals are no fun … for visitors, patients, or (I imagine) for employees. Still, we’re fortunate to have a place to go if we become ill or injured. ‘Tragic soldiers’ captures it perfectly!
That’s true, it’s fun for neither, but also true that in this country we can get medical care (paying for it might be something else, though).
nice poem. This poem affects sensitive souls. Compliments
It speaks of those who are sick, and their loved ones, and sometimes what they go through is very difficult. Thank you for reading, and thank you for the beautiful compliment.
I like mental illness as something we need to be more aware of but I am also fascinated with how this starts or the roots of mental problems.
It is sometimes a rather scary place, especially through the power of your writing, Lana.
Mental illness is truly debilitating for some people. In the housing unit where my mom lives, a few of the elderly ladies suffer with depression. I often try to put myself in their shoes when they have to go in for the various medical treatments. It can be scary and also very uncertain….
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