The granite like tiles made no sense for a hospital floor
Why would gold sparkling specks against cloud-white belong?
The phone in the waiting room would ring ever so often
Giving reassurance and the latest updates to prevent undue worry
Coffee was free along with a soda machine that took plastic cash
Faux leather chairs and sofas spread across the room for resting
And then there was an elevator where two men in scrubs got out
To make their way over. "It doesn't look good," one said
"No! Try your best. Go back and fight. Make it happen!"
Prayers, tears, agony, pleading, phone calls, and hope
But once again, the elevator opened. Time of death 12:23am.
About the Creator
Shirley Belk
Mother, Nana, Sister, Cousin, & Aunt who recently retired. RN (Nursing Instructor) who loves to write stories to heal herself and reflect on all the silver linings she has been blessed with :)
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Trickle Them Down, But Not Out
The thing about smart people is that they should know better, but alas, intelligence is not the same as wisdom. Not only do the mistakes of experts too short on vision—when they are not corrected—have the potential to do great and far-reaching damage, but they also undermine public confidence in the very notion of expertise. This is particularly so when expertise is wielded in defence of the rich and powerful as a cudgel against those laid low. As an academic, this lack of faith in “so-called experts” is painful to see as it plays out in the spread of dis-/misinformation, conspiracy theories, and anti-intellectualism writ large. But it is also an understandable impulse given the catastrophic failure of an economic ideology pushed by certain economic experts. Supply-side economics has shaped a broken system for the last half-century and has arguably done more to undermine the fabric of the American Dream than any policy framework of the past century.
By Cory Wright-Maley7 days ago in Humans
Comments (9)
The detail about the gold sparkling specks in the hospital floor is what won’t leave me — how something so decorative and almost pretty can exist in a room where someone’s whole world is about to shatter. And that line, “No! Try your best. Go back and fight. Make it happen!” felt so painfully human… like bargaining with people who are already carrying the weight of the inevitable. The way you stayed with the minutia — the coffee, the plastic cash, the elevator doors — made the 12:23am land even harder. I keep thinking about how grief really does cling to the smallest, strangest details in a room. When you look back on that night now, is it still those tiny visual things that surface first?
So sad :-( We always have far too much time in hospital waiting rooms to notice the tiny details like the flooring.
The moments poets notice... this was beautifully written, and I love how you opposed it with the harshness of reality.
That was ...a stark look at reality. Moving, Shirley, and real.
This poem was sad incredibly moving. You have a real knack for using physical textures like the gold sparkling specks and faux leather to ground the reader in a setting that feels both sterile and surreal.
Oh no. That's a glimpse into a world of sadness. The waiting, the delivery of the message and that last statement hits hard, Shirley.
This was so sad and emotional. Sending you lots of love and hugs 🥺❤️
Oh no. That would be hard but I imagine at some point the docs get used to it? Giving the news? I’m sure you wrote this from experience- I’m sorry.
COOL