Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Logosophiamag.com Hellopoetry.com Fellowshipandfairydust.com
A Dead Bug in the Hospital
Recumbent on a gurney, little to do Except to wait and think and hope and pray Not sure where I was in the surgical queue Above me the fluorescents, where a dead bug lay
We were both quiet, he especially so I would have asked him how he came to rest On a panel of plastic; I wanted to know - He had been blinded by the light, I guessed
I thought of this as I lay in my too-short bed “You’re in recovery now,” a kind voice said