poem

 Honest AirThe air is crisp and cold again,Has lost its languid indeterminacy.Here, we can be honest again.No more distracting small talk,Sharing a sultry August airWarmed by our feral lungs.No more dawdling in fieldsPretending we have all summer To figure it all outHonking geese fleeingSouth, squirrels gatheringNuts, trees reclaiming their peripheral Green, a world in a rush to finish up,To store up all that ’s left Before the first frost calcifiesOur living ground to cold bone And ices to stillness the arterial flowOf our shallow brown river.Each breath now is a stinging Rebuke of frigid austerity.My eyes widen.Nothing is hidden In this crystalline simplicity.I am fully awake,Distilled of all illusions. There is nothing to fearHere, and nothing left to rueHere, I don ' t wear a coat.Hands go numbAnd lips turn blue.Each brief breath can be countedAs a series of tiny evanescent clouds.I watch my body shiver.10/8/22

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - October 9, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs