counting seconds

time
has been
thinning like honey in hot water
running by
slipping by.

but
here in the waiting room
it has slowed
to the consistency of cheese
lumping by.

I am glad now for the minutes of forever
almost frozen
in white walls,
grey and purple carpet.

count your blessings, someone says
but I've been counting seconds.

I think this, remembering (when I had seen so few,
days were long, summers endless.) a time
like
luke-warm mollases

voices

smooth, slow
but not too slow
skimming along

in conversations.

and I,
weaving between legs in a forrest

of relatives.

I remember
chicken on the grill, squares of charcoal,

I forgot to freeze
the flames that lapped
at food, and twilight, night
slipped in
and darkend the rooms
and sky
and outside air.
the porch light turned on, yellow. bright.
my tongue
felt the blackened skin

and corn on the cob

I savored it, and time glug, glugged by like

barbeque sauce

I remember
abuelo,
daisy,
muchos tios,
mis tias
tia maria
tia juana
tias. muchas tias.
I remember
Daddy blended in
like one choclate in a bowl of candy
spanish rolling off his tounge
in a lovely jumble
and I remember Mommy faintly, nervous
(hiding in the little kitchen behind a stove of pots)
bella, they said
rubia
linda, touching her vanilla face, her blond hair
when she came out.

count your blessings, a nurse says
(has she been talking?)
but I've been counting seconds.