At the Heart of Things
Remember when your mother was taken ill-
and was rushed anonymously to the hospital?
and in the waiting room your older brother –
cried and shivered like glass.
But you felt like some dumb blunt dull thing-
no tears, no panic, no nothing…
And the kindly old woman in the corridor-
smiled in her knowing
and you wished you were sharp enough-
to cut away her smile
to cut down to the sinewy heart of things
like strangers smiling-
and families crying.
To look upon their glistening emotions-
without the polished facade
to see if they truly bleed,
as you truly bleed.
*Chris Guidon says “I'm a writer from Worcestershire and I'm currently working on my first novel and preparing to start a family.”
