in the hospital waiting room
the television glued to Law & Order,
a wheelchair, empty,
an old woman snoring,
a Grisham paperback
or maybe a King
(it doesn't matter),
the intercom voice
paging Dr. Davis,
Dr. Davis, telephone please,
as if Dr. Davis has
somewhere else to be
besides outside wolfing
down a cigarette
between ambulances
& what if the next one
is the one, the one
that brings you or
the one you missed
by a hair's breadth