The Visiting Nurse Tests His Vital Signs.

Minutes before the young blonde nurse arrives,
he gets back into bed and stretches out
stiff as a corpse at a wake.
He can hear her breathe as she
bends over him.
The touch of her hand at his wrist for his pulse
brings forth a sigh.
The warmth of her body as she takes his
blood pressure causes gooseflesh on that arm.
He opens his eyes to watch her
full starched blouse.
He rolls over on his side for her
inspection of his incision.
He takes under his tongue her
shaken-down mercury thermometer.
The red line shoots right up.
Her stethoscope inside his Johnny
causes him to catch his
breath and starts him talking ─ his
level of pain, his last elimination, her latest lover,
how many five-minute walks he can manage.
When she leaves, he stands up,
follows her perfume to the door, and waves.
Only two more weeks, he thinks and smiles,
only two more weeks until
he may “resume sexual activity.”



© Sherman K. Poultney 4 July 2003