The People Who Know Death Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Sitting in the doctor's office
Waiting for my appointment with the machine
The woman behind the front desk asks my date of birth
All the employees are friendlier than what is normal in this part of town
Want to know where I'm from and what I do

But their politeness masks a pity
Both natural and rehearsed, part of the job and part of any decent person's character
They know the effects of the worst type of news because they see it every day

And although I left this medical establishment
With a giddy heart and a sense of relief
And the woman at the front desk was more professional and less warm
I do feel I dodged a bullet
Something large and black and growing in my brain
Which made me dizzy and unwell

The knowledge of death
Is gained from seeing it on someone's face
While they are still alive
I am free from that for now
But we are always under mortality's shadow