Outside my window
another space
another sense of time.
Here, I am nesting
cocooning
mundaning.
I walk slowly
share quiet space,
my spouse smiles at me.
There in that place,
life and death rush through
like katabatic winds.
Patients arrive
fever burned eyes,
gasping, fearful, alone.
Nurses, doctors, attend.
Frenetic patient care,
selfless dedication.
Here. There.
Identical clocks,
hands moving in sync.
But sense of time?
There versus here?
High gear to the extreme.
I live across the street from Massachusetts General Hospital, a major care giver for Covid-19 patients in Boston. Photos taken from our windows. God bless all who are working on the front lines in these challenging times. And may all my readers stay safe and healthy.
Written for day 5, national poetry month. Prompt is given from Imaginary Garden with Toads. We are to write about the intersection of time and space.