a waiting room

a waiting room

In a waiting room
you look at the magazines rack,
and leaf through old unwanted books.
Your eyes move to the ceiling,
then glance at the floor.

You don’t make eye contact with anyone else.
Instead, you look at the walls, but there’s no clock.
You look at your fone and check the time.
Your eyes to turn to the front door and
see more people coming in to wait.

Your eyes glance at the receptionist.
You notice the artificial flowers carefully placed
next to the real orchids on the counter.
Why would you mix silk plants with a live plant, I wonder?

You look for a clock behind the receptionist.
Then you notice the walls and the choice of artwork displayed.
You look at supplies for sale on shelves and
at the chairs, some empty, some filled with others looking around, too.
Very interesting. This waiting game is interesting
and a little frustrating.
There should be some sort of happy hour here.
Or something more lively.
Maybe make it more of a lounge and let us smoke in here.

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