Tonight
in the Family Waiting Room
There is a rhododendron
large as a baby's head,
a spray of forget-me-nots
tied with shiny ribbon
in the corner vase.
The free coffee has stood so long
it doesn't taste like coffee, burns
my hands in the Styrofoam cup.
I sip anyway, have work to do.
Until the angel of the Lord appears
to resurrect the dying,
I continue to knit my hands
together, hoping for something
all the King's men can't offer.
In the center of the room
two women work a puzzle and turn
pieces with such finesse,
I've no doubt they'll finish
this jigsaw before their father dies
if he's going to.
Copyright © 2008 Teresa White