Wishing on a Miracle

Hospital hallways sweat like damp subway walls:
fluorescent lights hummed and flickered like malfunctioning
HVAC systems as Seattle rain pelted the air pads
where emergency helicopters dropped-off critically ill patients,
rolled them into ambulances, rushed sick damaged bodies
around a corner into the ER already filled to capacity.

The head nurse drew me a map to the hotel where I’d hang
till a B & B could be found; she lectured me about streets
to avoid late at night, but her cautionary warnings drew me
like a magnet to seek-out dark haunts where harm and danger
registered as deserved punishment appropriate for one such as I
allowed to live as Carole’s diagnosis on edge listed her terminal.

Initially I placed hope in the Harborview Medical Center experts,
believed them to be saviors—miracle workers gifted
with Asclepius’ power to heal—certain they’d guide
Carole from the outer limits where she lay unconscious,
unresponsive, atypically still to a full recovery and future
where her brain aneurysm would exist as a bad memory I owned.

From the B & B 10 minutes from Harborview Medical Center
I’d whistle into winds disagreeable as I approached
the HMC complex at 6:00 A.M. returning to my loft
At 10:00 P.M. when hospital staff members ushered out
reluctant visitors like me, fearful we’d miss mystic moments
loved ones awoke from lengthy comas or pass forever.

Retracing A.M. footsteps only fat rats and stray rabbits
crossed my path just daring me to approach them as they
scurried behind bushes, darted across vacant streets, and
disappeared into the shadows; I envied such freedom, yet never
would trade their carpe diem existence for a minute
or an hour longer locked in joy or sorrow by Carole’s side

Day after day, week after week, consultation after consultation,
optimism diminished; for thirty-two days Carole and I remained
as inseparable as visitors’ rules allowed…sharing meals in one
another’s’ company, she feasted intravenously as I ate bargain buys
from the hospital cafeteria; cashiers knew me by name, wished
me good morrow, wept upon hearing my beloved, Carole, had died.