random etchings

For my nephew, 1 November 2020

On the day he was born

his mother called,
but the ambulance was delayed
(too many calls,
too many ill)
and he came to earth in a bath tub,
rushing into the world
two weeks late, crying
as the doorbell rang.

the paramedics stuffed
two gurneys—mama in one,
baby in another, and they
rushed each to separate
hospitals, where they
could both wait alone
for sterilized room.

beds were stacked
like a linen cabinet,
jammed totally full,
ready to explode
when one last towel
must be stuffed in, sideways.

his mother, sequestered in another hospital,
tried to bring her baby close, but beds
opened and closed in hours,
like a carnival game,
hovering over the board
with a hammer to pound
her claim in before the bed
disappeared again.

her husband was stuck at home
(no visitors, quarantine),
and she wanted to nurse
but her arms were isolated.
were empty.

line count: 34
word count: 144
free verse
prompt: A PANDEMIC-AL BIRTHDAY