The doula
One last look at the adorable scene in the delivery room
The Golden Hour
Baby snuggled at mothers chest, father kneeling beside them
Adoring and in love with the new life created
The doula waves her hand
Sends her love their way
And opens the door
Steps out into the hallway
The bright light blending her sight
She passes the midwives, the doctors and staff
Heads down the elevator, passes the cafeteria filled with chattering people
Nears the exit of the hospital
Passes the children's and youth's emergency department
An old grey-haired man standing against a wall
Shouting, crying, nothing there to comfort him
But his wife
An old lady herself, patting his back
Nothing there to take a lost life back
How fine the line, between life and death
Thinks the doula and drowns her thoughts with loud music in her ear.
Rock bottom's where we live
And still we dig these trenches
To bury ourselves in them
Backs breaking under tension
For far too long these voices
Muffled by distances
It's time to come to our senses
Up from the dirt
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