Parking

Parking poem

At the university hospital
It's easiest with valet
And I get to watch the little dramas
As they occur
Under the portico

The elderly man who totters carefully
Grinning the while
To get a wheelchair for his wife
Equally unsteady descending from their car
And then, him pushing,
They both go inside
Still smiling.

The lady with the purple hair
Who has to be near my age
That perfectly matches her tee shirt

The young valets
Running from portico to the garage
Hustling to return cars
And pick up tips
Such a contrast to most of the customers

The blind 40 something woman
Like a much younger one
With frosted hair
And chipped blue nails
Wheeled by an aide thru
The automatic doors
That open for everyone

The man in the Dead Head
Sleeveless shirt
Who makes me think of a Nam Vet
He looks the right age
And he's ramrod straight as he was in his uniform

There's a story inside each one
Not being told
But being imagined
One will have a hip replacement
One will schedule oral surgery
One will get lost looking for who knows what
One will return home to a partner or a spouse
Or a child
To say, its back
With a sob in the back of her throat
And find solace in the hugs and tears
And one will learn
It's a girl
And repeat the news to celebration
And laughter

And the stories will circle
Round the portico
The young, the aged
The healthy, the dying
Sorrowing and celebrating
Stories not being told here
But I see them all
As they circle