Featured Poet- Tracy Gaughan

THE WAITING ROOM

A flock of physicians arrived on the wing, bringing some new grief. I was sent to the waiting room. It was so full of honesty; it was half empty  and almost impossible to hide from God. I took a seat and tried to exist less. I recognised myself in the ruined faces about me. The silence was absolute.   We disappeared into the walls like frescoes.  Fixated on our portraits, we clung  to our belongings like sacred relics: scarves, spectacles, a chain of...