~ for Angela Scuteri ~
Shadows hold their breath
and lurk around the suction door
A quiet stillness rises from the floor
of Chemotherapy wards.
Caged patients sunken-eyed, subdued
eyes glued to the window view
stretching wild of urban Savannah
lounging in soft grey leather
air-locked and tube-tied
to languid loops of plastic.
Ruby pouches hang from steel branches
hidden from the light.
Mixes heavy like lead with the almost Normal
Flame liquid sparks through the veins
incendiary cell devices
like a night in Baghdad
captured on the nightly news.