Tigers In Cribs
In the hallways
People laugh
Sometimes loudly
As they pass
The the rooms
Where people cry
Always quietly
As they wait
Behind gray walls
And in shadows
On floors that bleed
Have bled
And wait to be scrubbed
She fights, claws
At a hostile place
All 18 inches of her
4 pounds 7 ounces
Until they have to tape her
Little arms to the bed
Eyes tightly clenched
Against the harsh lights
She was not ready to see
Her tiny chest heaves
Against a world
Without enough air
Maybe they say
Maybe
48 hours and we’ll know
I wish I could make up a God
To pray to
Michael F. Mathews
Humana Women’s Hospital
Tampa, Florida
In the lobby by the Stork Phone
Jan. 30, 1989 ~Noon
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