poetry

A Drivers Graveyard

There’s an anger residing in hospital car parks
A hive of resentment for all that reside there
Centrical drivers in neat little boxes
Filling with fury while waiting for spaces
The stationary lane of vehicle drop offs
Stuck in defiance, wavering conventions
Growling at patients for daring to enter
A system denying all logic or sense
With scandalous charges for family penance

Time flies

The twist of a hand, the arc of a spine
The comforting growls of content
Glistening foreheads moistened with fervor
Candles to enhance the scent
Damp skin under nails, a rise of the hips
Teeth biting down on a sheet
A focused anxiety, converted to zeal
And soon the night is complete