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Tuesday, 07 May 2013

On Punctuality

By Marc Leavitt of Marc Leavitt's Blog

They put me down for ten o’clock,
Not eight. Or nine. I had a lock.
I walked in early per routine,
And signed the sheet, I knew the scene.

They put me in a little room,
I checked my watch, began to fume.
Ten minutes passed, and then ten more,
No doctor walked in through the door.

When sixty minutes’ time had passed,
The doctor came! Oh, joy! At last!
I fixed her with a steely stare,
As she walked in without a care.

“My time’s as valuable to me,
As yours to you, and it’s not free.”
She blushed and muttered an excuse,
In fact, her reasons were profuse.

Exam time came again this year;
I thought I’d made my point quite clear,
But nothing changed, and she was late;
She held me up and made me wait.

If I were tardy, I would hear
Some silly nonsense hit my ear.
They’d try to charge a penalty;
And how unsurprising that would be!

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Poetry of truthiness.

Unfortunately, some things never change. I always try to get the first appointment of the day, but even then there's no guarantee.

Your poem is so well done and oh, so true.

How true! I was once left alone, wound exposed, no call button and no way to get to the bathroom for three long hours. You can bet the Dr got an earful. It helped. They paid more attention after that. .. At least to me.

I always bring something to read or a sudoku book for appointments.

Then, there's the time that you have to see the Dr. NOW and someone else has to wait.

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