After Gardening, Chest Pain

so we drive to the ER
and walk through triage, past
signs for Emergency Waiting, past
the TV blare of a republic’s
last days–as light fails
beyond the glass and you wear
a casual floral gown
accessorized by EKG leads.
Sure it’s probably nothing,
we chat up nurses and techs,
stare into monitors, pull up
photos of our grandchildren
until tests, pallor, and pulse agree.
We collect paperwork, then
spin through glass doors
into the warm dark of cars and birds
where we coast through roundabouts
as a moon ignites clouds
over our circuits and veins.



About the Author

Michael Lauchlan has contributed to many publications, including New England Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, The North American Review, Sugar House Review, Louisville Review, Poet Lore, Bellingham Review, and Lake Effect. His most recent collection is Trumbull Ave., from WSU Press (2015).