The Hospital

 There I was,

sick son in hand, 

visiting the hospital

the faces there were all bowed

as if hiding

I played with the little child

and the cross-eyed baby

and talked to the mother about ways to remedy the sight

I saw the prancing man,

who didn't care

and tall giant with beautiful eyes

there sat quietly

a buxom lady on the wooden seats

it was  our turn then I knew

from the card that was carried by the couple in front 

a card as long as an examination sheet

the couple, a mustached man and his wife

entwined in eternity and in drugs

then I knew 

the hidden faces

the guarded eyes

the wandering stares

that looked as I walked and talked nonchalantly

the prancing man

I knew 


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