(an overhead sign saying
terminally ill patients)

Obsessed with hospital wards
i look through the glass door
holding a plastic cup of coffee
pretending to take a sip

waiting for a glimpse
a glimpse of anybody
with a dying light in their eyes.
Perhaps i just want to talk to them

and ask them what it feels like
to be dying, or knowing their dreams
will have to lie within the four walls
of their blue painted rooms forever

the nurse catches sight of me. Her eyebrows
shoot up, questioning. She's seen me
four times this week already. She starts
walking to the door, balancing files

in her hand and I don't think
i can answer any question she intends
to ask me
so throwing my coffee into a bin nearby
i walk away with empty thoughts
to crown my head.