At St. Joseph’s

For Three Word Wednesday, prompt words are amuse, excite, sincere

At St. Joseph’s
Everything is white, glaring
Like the noon sun off
Of silent snow-clad hills.
Boxes full of moving parts
Startle and beep while
Robed attendants chat—
There is no quiet here. With
Amused knowing nods
They approach
The mystery as if
It makes no difference,
As if life and death
Do not excite since
Both pay the same.
It is time. Ready
Or not, permission unasked,
She’s wrenched from all
She’s ever known.
With one earnest
Gasp she finally adds
Her sincere cry.
We do not come
Laughing into the world.
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18 thoughts on “At St. Joseph’s

  1. I got your drift at the line: She's wrenched from all she's ever known. This is great! I love the humour in your last line too. Wish I had the wit to write stuff like this.

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  2. I like the white rolling like petals through this piece..maybe mountain tops are more sacred in a way..less tarred by too many hands..churches are rich grounds for words..and people..you found them here…jae

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  3. Ditto on Laurie, amazing write. Had no idea this would be about giving birth but, you have hit it on the nail. Their pay is the same, life or death. Some wonderful imagery all through this.

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  4. Bren, That part about pay being the same came very late in the process–in reality, I don't think everyone in medicine is mercenary, but still . . . Thanks for stopping by.

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  5. Ellecee, Thank you. I like Heidegger's (translated) term for this, “thrownness.” The idea that we are just kind of tossed into existence, unasked. We have to make the best of it.

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  6. a stunningly beautiful piece. You start so peaceful, add a bit of noise and then her cry. Who wouldn't cry at being ripped away from the only world the have known.

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