Stream of consciousness poem, part IV

October 13, 2011 -- Fayetteville

In Fayetteville
Cars come at us
From all directions
Like derailed bumper cars
Our adrenaline spikes
And mixes with the
Too strong coffee
Pulling us
Awake

We drive past
The hospital once
Past the entrance once
Past the parking garage twice
Until we find a sign
Of sorts
And here
We turn

We stumble
From the car
And wonder
Where to go now
An older man
Stops his golf cart
And offers to take us
To the entrance
His kindness moves us
To tears

In the golf cart
We don't speak
And the kind older man
Doesn't speak
Until he drops us off
At the main entrance
And he calls out
"I hope everything
Turns out well
For you."