hazy dry, as if in midair
distant beeps, rattles,
blood pressure cuff wheezing up,
releasing, hour after hour,
day may become day
Of all possible recollections,
you pick the one
from December twelfth, thirteenth
or fourteenth, you revolve,
nineteen-fifty-three
in ice cold Korea
showering down
in luxuriance, soap,
frigid water trailing over your skin
after seven months in the hills.
And I speak of giving birth,
a parallel I cannot pin down
until I realize my birthed baby
could now be your soldier …
and how things imprinted on your mind
in that natal rush
still ruminate,
wind themselves around this morning,
the smells of this air,
the sounds of this sanitary,
quiet day.
—————
For my father on Veterans Day
Poems from in between 
4 responses to “Waiting for the doctor”
The rhythm of this is so perfect–and the visuals! Once again, I feel I’m right there with you.
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Thanks. It was just one of those days … wish you HAD been there. 🙂
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this is powerful. reminds me of the stories from my uncle, a korean war vet. so interesting the link between the soldier and the child.
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Thank you! Very kind. My father speaks so little about the war. But every once in a rare while, out comes a startling little picture of what he went through. Rare and precise. It always seems to turn the world upside down.
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