Three years in Waiting

Three Years in Waiting
(a donor’s heart)

He finally spoke, “I want to build.”
Our visit was just about over
He didn’t actually smile
But his eyes lifted
Towards mine
Not to offer
But to acknowledge
He may share an
Oxygen molecule
Or two

I then gathered my things
Like any good carpenter
Would do

The aroma of
My thoughts would stay though-
spattered chips of curiosity
and curled shavings of wavering thoughts
scattered on the floor
next to his hospital bed
like a mess of saw dust often
found in
my shop

The nurse ratcheted the curtain
I squeezed toward the door
The suction machine
Coaxed his saliva
His new heart still
And slowly pumping
Swimming softly
In the pool of
Fluid he’s
Coaxed to pee
Away with the aid
Of Aldactone

“Ill stop by
And see you
Next week,”
I said and walked
Down the hall