Daily Archives: 27 September 2014

The Leper and the Doctor’s Couch

She has deliveries to make.
She rounds the cubicle walls,
Her voice lilting
As she greets each person.

Sometimes by name,
Others with a hello,
Always with excitement;
Her enthusiasm is evident.

I consider plugging in my headphones
So I’ll not know when she arrives;
But no, I know what to expect.
I choose to leave the clutter on the desk.

She enters my domain,
Not a word is spoken.
Gingerly she holds the booklet
Between two fingers:

I am a leper,
My disease flaking from me;
The fibers of the booklet
A transmissive medium.

She must minimize her contact
With that filthy rag
Lest she contract
What I have.

So I seek the doctor’s couch
In the spinning iron ore
Spread throughout the globe;
I inquire to find the prognosis.

But the diagnosis accurate
Comes from the heart;
It is as I presumed:
I am not a leper.

© 2014 H.K. Longmore