HUP 2 3 4
The peep-peep-peep from the hallway
is not a fluffy chick, under incubator,
but some measure of infusion or rhythm
holding the line between earth and heaven’s reward (so, is earth a punishment?).
The hiss of air from the room vents is its accompaniment
never skipping a beat, supporting the concerto with soothing constancy.
I have been here through far too many movements with not a break for applause.
Across the street, Franklin Field stands guard under the overly moist skies.
Wet black gowns marking an end and beginning.
The cheering section went home before visiting hours were over.
Medicine is as relentless as loneliness.
Now, the darkness and I are left
to squabble over pointless things.
*Originally published in Annals of Internal Medicine March 5, 2002
and in On Being a Doctor 3, April 2007