Scent
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If they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent
all would have been well.
She had no memory
of the operation
when she was a baby,
before she could even speak.
She could speak now
and spoke at length
about her sore, sore throat.
That was all she remembered
day after day.
So if they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent
all would have been well.
They said her tonsils were bad
and in the hospital
they would put her to sleep
for a little while
and take them away.
They promised ice cream after
to soothe her aching throat.
So she went to the hospital.
She went with the nurse
and saw the doctor.
They were stiff, starchy and stern
and she didn’t like them much
but she lay on the trolley when asked,
obediently.
If only they hadn’t asked her,
if only she hadn’t remembered
the scent from before.
There would have been
no screams, no stamping
up and down on the trolley.
The nurse would still
have her cap on
and the doctor would have
no fist or feet marks
on his white coat,
no red hand mark
on his pale cheek.
Yes, if they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent
all would have been well.
But they did ask her.
They did ask her.
The scent wasn’t nice.
She knew it.
And there was no ice cream
afterwards either.
They’d lied about that
as well.
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Lynn White
Lynn White lives in North Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice, events, places, and people she has known or imagined. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and a Rhysling Award.
