Lymph Node

Walk across the bridge

Watch the pale-blue, almost green, grey light dancing on the water below

Voices, echoing

Start to wonder, soundlessly

Then I see the same old man (again) — wearing a soft, round wool cap with a small bill in front. Arrayed in tatty ragged autumn jacket. River-silver salt-and-pepper hair, jaded crow’s feet eyes. Details I had not noticed before

Walk slowly towards me and find him smiling, a vivacious captivating one

Then he says “ Can I hand it over to you? ” His voice is quakingquavering

I stand for many seconds, simply unable to speak

“ Can they hear us?” he says

“ I think, yes..”

“ So, we beat on”

He took his staff as he started to walk down the hall and once again he whispered

“ Lymph Node, my dear..”

Struggle to make sense of everything

Till dark and lit by dull lighting and candles

I start rushing in through the bridge, trying to get home

Inhale, exhale

I Finally know,

Sir.