The day hospital.

The day hospital.

There is laughter,

It bleeds in with the sun,

Slipping out from between

Tight lips

As gallows humour.

Drawn from the depths

Of despair

It leavens the mood

And highlights the spirit

Tumbling

Like a rolling glitter ball

In a dystopian dream,

Softening the surgical

Precision,

Painting a rainbow

Into the barren landscape.

It resembles the chatter

Of children at play

On a bomb site,

Making the best of things.

An acceptance of suffering

As a means of survival

Is the hope

That prevails.

And it is peaceful now,

With only the chirrup

Of monitors,

The hum

Of machines to mask

The pragmatic march

Of The Proclaimers,

As they walk 500 miles

And a young man

Struggles to stand.

The magic of radio

A mirror to his

Moment of triumph.

She rests now,

Paper thin eyelids

Flutter in sleep,

Where is she now

I wonder

Dreaming of a better place?

She smiles,

It lights up her face

And I know that somewhere

She is happy,

But it is fleeting

The merest shadow

Of a dream,

A brief punctuation

To the surreal

Presence of wakefulness

And the inevitable

Progression of life.