"Time is the school in which we learn."
-Joan Didion
The waiting room attendant
is bright, chipper, relentless
as an alarm clock.
The room itself is filled with
soft muzak and soap opera dialog
competing to be white noise, but
at least they cover over
the florescent hum.
I sip elderly, burnt coffee
without really tasting it
as I recite silent prayers and promises
to learn the lessons of patience.
In the Imaginary Garden we were asked to write something based on a quote from Joan Didion.
