SIT AND WAIT
Just sit there and wait,
the nurse said, Jinjang
sat and waited. The room
smelt of cheap disinfect
and sick body’s odour.
She looked around;
took in the yellow curtains,
light blue walls, plain carpet.
The doctor’s name was
unfamiliar and the plump
young receptionist had
been rude and gruff.
The pain in the breast
was still there as she sat
silent on the wooden chair.
Her fingers had found a lump
while she showered. Her sick
mother had died of cancer,
the woman her childhood self
had loved wasted away like an
unwatered plant in a dry pot
one hot summer’s day.
