The hospital

The hospital is a warm space, a pearl-white place
Of  healed  wounds, buzzing flies and white legs.
The wounds come here for a warm breeze to blow
From loving mouths, from hanging  tails in necks
From quick beating chests of knowledge and love.

The hospital has turned a warm and  a fiery place
Its white light now licked by purple tongues of fire,
Its efficient silence shattered by loud dying sounds.

(Two days ago, in Kolkata, a massive fire started by an electrical short circuit killed eighty five patients of the Amri hospital)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s