Evening, Psychiatric Hospital Poem by Gert Strydom

The last cars of the visitors
drive out through the gate
and one does stop at the gate guard
to ask for directions
and in the administrative building
some lights are burning
as if that place does still do business
after office hours.

A Small road twist past the cafeteria
and lead to one of the wards
and here and there
some of the last doctors that were doing rounds
leave the premises with cars
that comes like search lights
past different wards

and a while later one of the pastoral councillors
walk into the cool night air with a family
that had been his last visitors

and inside sisters patrol and every now and then
they gather cheerful around cups of tea or coffee
and look into the wards
to make certain that the patients are doing fine.