The Nurse

She is harsh and sympathetic at the same time

Accomplishment worn from nursed and routine conditions

She is solid and strong and borderline cruel

But tempered by a soft hand and curved breast

And one sad, hidden tear.

She brushed it away with a shot of arm

A dash of finger blurred by quickness and

Her bright, flashing smile.

She thought I did not see...

But the lines around her eyes give away

The frozen memories standing just behind their shadow,

Hard and rimmed and worn.

The frayed lashes seemed to liquidate the lines just enough

To allow the escape,

The flow of the solitary tear.

She bends over me, her bosom brushing mine

But she does not think of that.

There is a brisk doneness about her

Which envelopes me in her presence.

Long ago she shoved her youth aside

And hid it like a precious penny.

It slides inside the deep purse of her lips;

It glitters a bit in the sheen of saliva on her lip,

But stays close to the cavity of moist space

Deep in her ample throat

Where hiding is possible.

The copper warmth of her secret obeys

For it has her personal order.

It is a must stay from the Mrs.

cailin raine