At first a horror film thrill at the razor wire
garlanding the hospital.
Sat in the waiting room holding her breath
beside the other out patients
who were unexploded bombs liable to go off ‘BANG'.
Scrabbled in her bag for a book as defence
against the man in rumpled clothes
who tossed random phrases at her like a lonely kid
trying to entice someone to play ball with him.
Looked up eagerly each time a consultant
greeted their client with the impeccable manners
of a maitre' D over looking the foibles of the very wealthy.
But after several appointments,
she and her therapist would remark upon the weather
whilst navigating the hospital's computer game
of locked doors and forbidden levels.
In the coffee bar watched with animal indifference
as the in patient assistant slowly calculated
her change as if it was foreign currency.
Ate her sandwiches in the grounds, watching squirrels caper,
occasional screams issuing from acute wards
indigenous as the cry of sea gulls by the coast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem