A year ago,
the surgeon
(in the coolest glasses
and Armani suit)
said he’d ring
the moment he was done.

A year ago,
the patient,
shaved and gowned and terrified,
clasped my face,
as they trolleyed him
through the grim green doors.

A year ago,
the children
danced my heart out
and helped me still my silly mind,
as the obstinate hours
tick tick ticked
tick tick tocked.

A year ago,
the phone
refused to ring -
and six
and seven
and eight
went dawdling by.

A year ago,
I rang
Intensive Care
and heard the words
that sent my heart a-thumping
with relief.

I wonder if the surgeon
(in the coolest glasses
and Armani suit)
knew how much
his silence mattered.

Alison Cassidy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twelve-months-on/