Rosanne Singer Poetry


Army Wife with Gurney

In the gray morning after rain,
the slick road and deserted parking lot
of the hospital wait like an empty stage.
A skinny blonde in full makeup trots on,
as if someone had shouted "Action!"
She is remembering last year at the mall
when her charged gait propelled her store to store,
shrieking with girlfriends. Now she is a sapling
unable to straighten against her husband's gurney,
as if wind were beating her back. She pushes
harder than she ever has to take him from here
to there. Comfortable shoes would help, but once
she slips into them she will become someone else.


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