love letters from the forest
This is a quick little poem I was compelled to write. I’ve just been for a checkup and as I walked to an impromptu blood test – the woes and worries of the world had a field day in my head. But the second I saw the Blood lady tapping away on her ipad, playing a quick round of candy crush whilst waiting for her next patient – all that ridiculous anxiety disappeared.
Ironically, Blood lady has the same name I called every one of my dolls as a child and one of my all time favourite Brady Bunch characters. However, she is far from that groovy little lisping pigtailed cutie or any of my seventies Barbies.
This woman is a quietly spoken warrior with an awesome backlog of stories and a devilish twinkle in her eye when she relays them. I’ve visited her tucked-away-corner in every state imaginable. No matter the circumstances from sorrowful, to standard, to a sick looking plague monster – she has been a comforting presence every time.
It’s not until I’m having blood drained that these memories between we two return. So I thought I’d immortalise her before her lovely vibes are replaced with dog shit, kids complaints and all the sweet vibe overrides of realty.
bold white hair
kind warm smile
jab so gentle
talk awhile
tells me all
i need to hear
of her bolder life
void of fear
once a plumber
in era of scorn
female tradie?
lesbian-sex-fiend
addicted to porn
she quietly giggles
as i beam at her tale
doc martin phlebotomist
married a
“women should only wear heals“
kind of male
candy crushes in breaks
no fuss nor ceremony
crushes in real life
only 39 – hysterectomy
while i frizzle frazzle
a panicky frenzy
she soothingly shares
a life worthy of envy
empathetic smile
through checkups and tragedy
I am in awe every time
of this walk-her-talk majesty.