Hospital Days Poem by Shafinur Shafin

I
never liked
coming to hospital
where always
brothers run
busy
with the tray
or trolly
with scissors, fast-aids-
No hand is there
to push
in the handle
to push
the old man
tries to
move forward
the wheelchair
in the hospital's
long neck corridor
White dressed
nurse's
beautiful smile
injects
under my skin
I
see
how she leaves
the room
swooping up
her skirt
Pale wind of
the old fan
blows away
red crescent curtain
in my cabin
the black cat
always sits
in the corner
and she looks at
me suspiciously
yet indifferent
we measure
each other
from a distance
I
hate
the smell of
bandage and phenyl
which like the smell of
roaming spirits
who are whispering
always
to take the soul
out of the
body
I
see
the black
c
a
t
and her green
suspicious
eyes