Ben Barton

9.44pm At The Hospital - Poem by Ben Barton

These men are children
Sixty years in childhood; lined at their nebulizers
fed, watered and wiped
By the nurses.

A phones insistent ringing
On the other end -
a worried relative
but I cannot console them
it's no job for me
What would I say?
'You can't speak to him now, I don't think he's free'

How can I tell them he's dead?

An empty bed; the ringing, on
and on
and on in my head.

But if I answer the phone,
what do I say?
'This bed is no longer the one where he lay'

The phone rattles at the foot of my bed
Sounding the sounds that thud in my head

How do I tell them he's dead?

Comments about 9.44pm At The Hospital by Ben Barton

  • Ernestine Northover (6/10/2006 12:44:00 PM)

    Clever write, Nice way it's put together, good location, sad tale but very worth the read. Rounded off nicely with that last line, leaving one with the thought of how would one answer such a question. Love Ernestine XXX (Report) Reply

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  • (7/18/2005 3:22:00 PM)

    Good poem. I liked it. I worked in a hospital once so I understand the urgency of your tone. Very clever! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, July 18, 2005

Poem Edited: Monday, July 18, 2005

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