After the Ambulance Poem by Angela Narciso Torres

Carpenter ants picked the T-bone clean.

The dog's leash tautened toward
a square of sun.

A hallway lamp wavered.

Slice of lit motes through
the cracked bedroom door.

Her slipper under the bed, another on the armchair.

On the shell comb, a single strand.
Her blue robe still damp.



*



a narrow bed in an endless
row of beds tucked tight
like chalk-white pills
cocooned in plastic

no visitors no cellphone no
end to night but the nurse
who relayed messages
telegraphic—send blue

bathrobe Saint Jude
rosary lime-flavored
Jell-O chenille slippers
boar bristle brush



*



why am I here?

pressed in her suitcase
between terrycloth and silk

where is my husband?

on a prescription slip, scribbled
in her physician scrawl

when will I go home?

barely three days before
the words slowed to a trickle