Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Meeting Old Ghosts

I slowly descend the old stairs,
dirty and in need of a fresh coat of paint
to the basement of the building.

The same stairs
that I descended
forty years ago with my mother,
we inch down now,
creeping
for self protection.

I see the same frown
of disapproval on the
face of a different
doctor of dentistry,
the distrust hanging in the air between us
as it did on the face of the other,
now ghostly doctor
who seems to still inhabit the same room.

Finally finished,
we worm our way out of the cramped office,
relieved to have
escaped
to return another day.

4 comments:

Art and Poetry said...

This is so true! I have just been to the dentist and it is the same place I went with my mother when I was a child, seems odd.

Dymphna (4HisChurch) said...

Wow! I thought I was the only one who had that ghostly experience! Thankfully, I no longer live in her area, but if I did, I know I couldn't bring myself to go to that dentist!! But, I do take her there quite often.

TACParent said...

My old dentist was in downtown Baltimore. I remember I could see the street from the chair and watch the horse drawn buggies, carrying fruits and vegetables for sale. I liked that dentist ... but I like the one I have now too.

Dymphna (4HisChurch) said...

That's a neat story. You were a witness to history.

Poems © Gemma W. Wilson