After the Hospital in Spring
Prologue:
A small bud becomes fat.
Pops open into a perfect blossom
only to be greeted with an icy blast.
Not a very kind world to be born into,
but inspired by the sudden birth,
benevolence extends with tender green shoots.
They say,
we are with you,
hold on, hang in there. It’s going to get better.
This is the right place and time.
You’ll see.
A row of Bradford pear trees bloom along the visitor lot like
huge drifts of soft snow.
This afternoon, I ate a pie in the car under a snowbank of blooming pear trees.
Alone, sticky quiet,
any noise or breath muffled by the blind avalanche.
Cherry wrapped in crust.
Safe in a poky pasty box.
Secure in my space of a vehicle
that could take me to anywhere
but far away.
Somewhere there is a clean tablecloth
strewn with fancy cups of smiling faces reflecting in the
golden tea from a place far away.
Without invite,
I searched on my way home for the aisle with Jello.
It is the food of air, last comfort.
Jagged jewels given at hospitals.
I picked many bright flavors.
I fear the path has begun.
I will need to remember these
colors to make sense of it all
or just know the lightness
that every precious moment is a melting spoonful.
Ed Lent | After the Hospital in Spring | I am a disabled person with Multiple sclerosis my poems reflect or hint at my mobility struggles or emotional stress i often feel as a person dealing with a handicap. This particular poem is about my imagination of visiting myself in a hospital and the dealing with coming home as a new and handicapped person.