Hell's Skin IV
by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen — Read all 1,670 poems by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Having heard no word
back from the clinic,
the night stretches and itches,
allowing only a few hours sleep,
worry blistering the mind
just as surely
as rash mars the skin.
No comfort from touch
of husband's skin in bed's
forlorn safety, sleeping
on top of the sheet while he
is below, sadly missed,
heel kissing curtailed.
Demands and rants and need
for answers
swirl and keep her awake.
Finally, morning comes,
zoom the kids to school, hustle
leopard butt up to Urgent Care,
huh, not isolated this time,
could be good news.
Blood tests show no recent pox, sooo,
what can she do? "Nonspecific virile rash".
"Yes? Okay...how do we get rid of it?"
Dosepak of steroids, oral cortisone,
good, but, the pharmacy isn't even open yet!
More waiting...finally, at noon, on Friday,
the first day's six pills are downed.
Mind unclenches, relief shoots
through her veins, her being expands
again, the day is sweeter, the sun
shines through the rain
and she can go on
with life.
She hopes...
Erin Moen
10/21/02
Monday, November 4, 2002
Tomorrow's chapter, the hope is dashed.
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