recent day at work they take my blood;
Almost a half-litre, trusting them
Yet as I do I still cannot watch this flow:
But drift in a rolling daze, punctuated
Only by a small stabbed ache in my elbow.
required time passes, and I try to rise
But irked at this interruption
To my predicted day, I leave with care.
| Back at my desk, tired
I surprise myself: my pockets filled
With wrapped sweets, above all surprise
At how I cram them in my mouth,
At my urgency in taking every one.
That must be the last time, they say;
Relief on their Red-Cross faces still tinged
With some concern. It saddens me
In this time of rising hopes, and Viagra,
And will the stock market bounce back again ?
My small but bitter metaphor.
copyright G D Bolton 1998 - all electronic rights reserved