Visiting Hours
by Karin Myhre
desultory at the desk the
nurse buzzes us in
and we bring in a breath of sodium streetlight
sharp air on the turn
and flakes of leaves with us but not
quite enough to remain
they wouldn’t sign you out
to smoke in the atrium on the third floor so
we selected a pumpkin each
from a neat row on yesterday’s news knives
marked in and out
(scarcely adequate for the task) but we
made do
under a mildly watchful eye we
squished the piles of pulp and
flicked the seeds
one catching on the pale green paint above
the servery hatch
I tried to carve my smile
as jaunty rather than menacing a
teenaged reassurance
for words I didn’t have
Karin is from Canada but has made Scotland her home for the past 25 years. She works in mental health, but writes as often as she can. Her work explores memory, place and landscape. She has a BA in English from the University of Calgary, and she has been published in Room magazine.
