A Night In ICU When Mother Is Dying

[71degrees]

Hi, 71 degrees. The title is rather sad no matter how it is read, but sets the stage.
I wonder why mother is like a fallen snow angel. Is it fallen snow or fallen angel?
A doctor AND A nurse starts the poem out with a joke-like cadence, or resembling
the beginning of a joke.


A far door swings open and a doctor
and a nurse waltz in like synced-dancers.
No words, one in a white coat, the other
in a V-neck solid blue top. Adorned
with silver watches, matching black
stethoscopes

                      each carries a platinum chart.                               - didn't think of anything but how the chart is valuable or symbolizes wealth.

In Room 627, all but one line has been taken
out, bluish-morphine is every hour
on the hour. Plastic pens click, a head sinks                                  -clicking pens is good metaphor
into a white pillow like a fallen snow angel

the two of them
two-step quickly down
the polished linoleum floor, past all
closed doors—

proud and confident, young                                                        - proud and confident of what? a cure I hope, not the wealth of a platinum chart...
and living among the dead.                                                                                     


though I am not sure how the chart business goes in hospitals or hospice nowadays,
I am glad to read there are physical hard copy charts and folks aren't relying on just
computerized junk.

all the best to you

nibbed <3

google "snow angel"...it's a real thing in a snow climate / need to think harder on "platinum" / glad you liked the "clicking pens" / "young and living" follows "proud and confident"...when you're older you'll understand / Thanks for the comments but not sure how any of them help to improve the poem

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can´t read it this way with the title saying "mother is dying".
the first two lines of the second stanza also don´t work if i read it that way, seems they´re too personal and serious to fit into a dance of death. almost as if it belonged to another poem.

I'll re-title it.  Seems all you need for things to work.

Thanks for the comments.

you should not re-title it to "work for me".

I won't. I like it.