no added sugar

in a doctors office before noon
with only white noise of central air
soft click-clack of typing at the desk
across the waiting room
4-year-old angel whispers to mom 
mom calls her jasmine

those two angels of your own
back behind the doors 
talking to the healer 
about what peace and healing
there is to be had

in this place you can know 
as you ease into a slouch
not of disregard but of, well, ease
that after the privilege 
of plugging in your device
slowly folding your scarf
at last assessing the contents of your satchel
you can weep if you must 
rest your hands 
be only here
and add absolutely nothing