He's turned the corner

I'm not sure where this poem is going. I began writing it yesterday and it is in its roughest form.

1st draft

He's turned the corner
someone whispered and
I wondered which direction he went
because it seemed to me
he was going nowhere
pinned down as he was
by the weight of his treatment
lines snaking from vein to bottle

and back again

bells and whistles of computer medicine
quiet and white in the ICU

he's turned the corner
the voice insists
and I see him now
shuffling from the shadows
toward the light

__________________________________



2nd draft

He's turned the corner
someone whispered and
I wondered which direction he went
because it seemed to me
he was going nowhere
pinned down as he was
by the weight of his treatment
lines snaking from vein to bottle

and back again

bells and whistles of computer nuclear medicine
quiet and white in the ICU

he's turned the corner
the voice insists
and I turned to see him see him now
shuffling from the shadows
toward the light

__________________________________

3rd draft

He's turned the corner,
someone whispered, and
I wondered which direction he went
because it seemed to me
he was going nowhere
pinned down as he was
by the weight of his treatment
lines snaking from vein to bottle

and back again

bells and whistles of nuclear medicine
growing quiet and white in the ICU

he's turned the corner
the voice insists
and I turned to see him 
shuffling from the shadows
toward the light


while, on the screen
a flat line stretches
to infinity