Friday, July 15, 2011

The Blackout

The fear is hard to describe.
The panic of a communication blackout
When they intentionally shut off all communication
So that family can be notified.
So that word doesn't leak out.

You don't get your morning email
The message you always get.
You wait for the Skype call you had planned
But it never rings.
You send emails - desperate emails
That go unanswered. 

With each passing moment 
Your panic increases
You scour the internet for an answer
And hope you find it
At the same time you hope you don't.
You read those four words:
American soldier killed today
The next words list the general location
The same location across the world
That the love of your life lives.

You try to convince yourself that you'd know by now.
Someone would have told you.
You're the first person to be notified
And you've been home all day.
Someone would have come
And told you 
The news.
You would have seen that car by now.
The car that every military wife dreads
The car that you keep looking out the window
Hoping not to see.

There's nothing you can do
To stop the fear
the tears
the nerves
The only thing that would help
Is a phone call from him
An email.
A message.

So you wait.

You just keep waiting.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

You Call Me Doctor


You say that's me.
I'm not so sure.
It says "MD" on my name tag.
So I guess it must be true.

I have to let you in on a little secret.
Right now I'm just pretending.
In truth,
I don't know what I'm doing.
Or at least it feels that way.

It's July.
You shouldn't come to the hospital in July.
All these fresh faces.
All these new doctors.

I don't even know the way to the bathroom.

You call me "Doctor"
but it feels like