At The Doctor’s Office

Velvety pink lupines in exquisite bloom this June

Yet overhung with weeds and

At first impression,

This place looks like

One of those old homesteads, silent cathedrals,

Walkers stumble upon

Deep in faraway forests.

The tops of yellow irises

Peak out like children between stage curtains.

Finally you notice perennial beds, an overgrown hole into a cellar,

Fieldstones in some formation

Before which grow

Huge peony buds, tall and lush from heavy spring rains, buds,

Encircled with ants

Above a bed

Of weeds, tall grasses,

Where salmon-colored tulips thrived only

A few weeks before.

I am sitting in the waiting room

Of a doctor’s office, again,

General Hospital on TV,

Four women watching.

I am in a corner, far away, behind the voices,

My eyes fall closed

Like the petals of tulips

Spent, fall to the ground.

It’s humid and raining again.

Traffic speeds by the open door.

© Susan Gesmer

At The Doctor’s Office