Hospital vestibule, arctic zone
Laura and I hold hands
We are in “impatiently waiting” mode
We make small talk to kill time
The test had gone a little haywire
The Doc seemed a bit concerned
I was told to linger awhile longer
We wait as I contemplate the afterlife
Ten minutes pass, seems like forever
Finally my phone rings
I listen, good news
The old ticker still has some life in it
I smile weakly trying to hold back tears
Laura has no problem letting go
We kiss, holding each other tightly
Touching base with mortality
Not something one ever plans for
Time still seems to be on my side
To go through this alone, inconceivable
Having Laura with me, means everything
I must remember to say I love you more often
