Waiting

Waiting

sitting in silence

finding things to do

on this normal , quiet evening.

rustling papers

and tapping keyboard,

with one eye on the phone

waiting for disaster

to ring through my complacency.

I can almost see

the sterile walls, the contained chaos

as hurried doctors and nurses

bring relief to the battle-weary  

binding the hundred wounds

of collision and anger,

cancer and a failing heart. 

I can almost, but not quite, hear

The IV pumps, heart monitors,

crash-carts clattering down

shining halls, carrying the artillery

we aim at the enemy.

But right now,

right here

all is quiet;

the cat mews patiently

for her evening meal

as I watch for the phone

to light up

and give me the news

that will shatter

this quiet evening.