Dawn

It is 4:50 am and the
Rehab is silent for once,
I wake from habit used
To being at work long
Before 7 am to drink a
Cup of hot tea, sort my
Emails and watch the
Sunrise from my window
At TXDOT mellowing.
This morning I watch the
Light grow slowly brighter
Through my rehab window
As I write a poem and listen
As the staff begin their rounds
Singing and humming songs
Of Africa, my aide tells me she
Is from Liberia, a Monrovia’s girl.
I welcome her to the USA and
She laughs and says “the land
Of work and pay bills” then
Laughs some more as she
Bustles about my room. I am
Still in bed writing covered by
A sheet with my book by my elbow.
Soon the nurse will demand blood
For testing pills to take and perhaps
For me to get into a weigh chair
To monitor my weight fasting.
One morning the aide from Nigeria
And the nurse from Senegal were
Both in my room at 5:15 am laughing
Asking questions giving instructions
Asking me to get from the bed to
The weigh chair, I asked them if
They would leave for a minute so
I could pull on a pair of short pants,
They both laughed and said no
You go ahead as you are then
Burst into laughter at my
Surprised look of consternation.
They left for a minute to give
Me time to pull on some swim
Trunks I keep close by for this
Exact purpose, they are still
Laughing when they are done
And finally depart the room.
Some staff are Murlanders as
Maryland is a southern state.
Black and white they are efficient
Quick and serious in their duties,
Perhaps too long in the land of
Work and pay bills has sapped
Their laughter though a few kind
Words from me still brings a smile.
And voila it is light, a poem is
Written and another day of therapy
And exercise begins interspersed
By reading my book and in
The evening watching an
Occasional old movie classic.
When I am healed and mobile
They will dismiss me and I
Will miss the songs and tunes
Of West Africa just before dawn.