The Traveler

bits of glass, tinctured red ~
deformed metal scree(EEEE)ches
as roaring teeth attack; frantically

again

again

burnt rubber stench & muffled shouts
“stay with me,” he says, breathless ~
Red Agony
is all you see
before the lights dim.

beep

beep

beep

is the music of the Lost;
her hand in yours on sterile white ~
she mumbles
about clipping your nails,
absent-mindedly rearranges
hearty smiles in picture frames,
while her hollow eyes SCREAM at me,
reflecting monitor-Green
& she jokes
about the weather;
rain pounding against windows

Always
her
hand
in
yours…
and moments turn to hours.

the sky weeps for days ~
one morning,
i see my deepest sigh
in her unbound, joyful tears and
those ocean eyes of yours

“welcome back,” i say, smiling ~
and You
illuminate the room.

__________________________________________________________________
I used to work in an ICU as a physical therapist for a couple of years. A place of such sadness and turmoil – yet, it is also where you witness great Beauty.
Written for Fred Rutherford’s wonderful prompt about Beauty – in all its facets – over at dVerse. Grab your poem and join the fun!

43 thoughts on “The Traveler

  1. There are so many awful poems out there on the internet, being part of D’Verse and reading something as special as this, is amazing. Really loved the way you painted this image with your words Miriam, thank you for making my sunday morning a wee bit brighter

    Like

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