Mostly, we talk about how cold it is
Laugh at the absurdity that a place like this
Doesn’t have change for cash payments
How to wait until the last possible minute
To put your gown on
Who drove us
If they yelled back at the protestors, too
How far along we are, where we were
When we found out
What we had for dinner last night and
If we’ve been here before or
Have any kids or why we
Shouldn’t, can’t, have them
It isn’t until the door opens and
Someone comes to take another one of us back
That she turns around, says something other
Than what she wants to eat once this is over
“I guess we’ll have to ask for forgiveness”
And it startles me back to where we are
A room full of women
Together in our aloneness, choosing
Something else
The door closes, returns us to our wait
For another name to be called
For relief
I want to ask her where the forgiveness comes from
Why she thinks it hasn’t already been given
