Coffee or cola, in half-light

She sits in the half-light, facing

the bed with its tubes, wires,

humming scanners, glucose

bags extended above, all

working or trying to work

in the general vicinity

of life, sustenance at least,

holding the cup offered

by the nurse, coffee or cola

murmured as a question

so softly, politely, and she

could only stare at the nurse

and then the bed, wondering

if he could survive the weight

and noise surrounding him,

unconscious but breathing,

and it seemed coffee or cola

had assumed an equivalence

to life or death and she couldn’t

choose, didn’t know how,

prayed that no choice was needed,

 so the nurse handed her

coffee, black, which sits

in her hands, turning cold

in the half-light.

At TweetSpeak Poetry, Seth Haines has a “Battle of the Beverages” poetry prompt this week, although I think he’s looking for something a bit more humorous than what I came up with. You can check TweetSpeak to see other poems submitted.

This poem is also submitted to dVerse Poets for Open Mike Night. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.