I stroll barefoot
looking to dance near
blousey purple intoxicating
hanging over the fresh green grass
like breasts daring the sun
after winter’s strictures—

promising all
but too soon gone.

Nothing can
silence a waiting room
like a writing pad
when one of the patients
starts using it.

Two little guys
testing mummy’s limits
the older editorializing
on younger brother
worried about
having something
small and white
removed from
his own ear
with a knife
maybe.

So I told him
how nice the doctor is
and how quickly
he took stuff out of my ear
with a thing like
a little spoon.

Now he has become
a little boy again
and is running
cirlces in the hall

a little past
entertainment.