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. Simply stunning Miri- I was there in the ICU …in awe ..’ beep beep – the music of the lost’ I sigh at what feelings you have been able to bring to the surface of such a cold and sterile environment. Beautiful.

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