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talking to myself

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Dialysis waiting room

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Dialysis waiting room

I came in and sat down in the small waiting room,

The people there were waiting their turn to be called in.

Quiet, low key, perhaps tired,

Some are better at dialysis than others,

Many give it up since it is so hard on their bodies

I sat down with my book and started to read,

Then ever so softly I heard a soft humming,

Gentle it is sound,

Haunting in its unknown melody

That touched me deeply.

She was a small woman with a round face,

Beautiful, with her skin black as coal,

Eyes shut making her song,

Hymn-like in its quality,

Not knowing how, or why it was touching me

I turned and said hello,

She replied with a soft smile,

Saying hi,

My name is Vivian,

I am waiting for my ride

I asked her what she was humming.

She said she did not know,

Sadness is with me she said,

I know not why

When I hum it seems to help.

To me the gentle melody was a prayer,

Calling out to God,

A psalm, said childlike in its potency,

For all who care to listen,

Coming from this beautiful child of God.

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