Poem : Blood Clots

Hobbled on a full moon
My calf’s inside became black with pain
It felt like
It had turned to stone under my skin
Stretching it tight
Like a canvas  
So I sat in the ER
Waiting my turn to be seen
While the bright orange glow of moonlight
Peeked through the glass sliding doors of the entrance
I sat with the beating heart of the city
From the forgotten ones left behind by society
To the children of the privileged
With their mascara smeared tears running down their face
Turning their cheeks into a bluish gray watercolor painting
As I wait
A man coughs in the corner
While his wife meditates in a chair beside him
Dressed in bright red clothing accented with stitched swirls of gold
Her opaque eyes seem to look right through me
She had a gaze of a thousand gazes
Yes her eyes told the stories of many travels
Far beyond a laptop in some internet café
She had been there
She had been to the mountain
And now she sits looking
Waiting like me
For the next to be called
But aren’t we all the next to be called
When sitting in a hospital and there’s nowhere to go
A melting pot one could say
Filled to the top
With the sick and injured of the city