Letter From Luke
He wrote that he didn’t know what to say to comfort us, so he decided to describe the view from his rented room near Sydney...
-received while waiting for trauma surgery, Ruijin Hospital, Shanghai, China
He wrote that he didn’t know what to say
to comfort us, so he decided to describe
the view from his rented room near Sydney-
a dark green mango ripening on the sill,
eucalyptus lining a footpath to the beach,
their medicinal cedar scent drifting in,
white noise from wind and waves, surfers
riding six foot swells. We read as if
he was seated beside us, and his words
soothed like sounds from the sea.
They say doctors learn best from their own
spilled blood, and when we finally flew home,
shattered, exhausted, hopeful, screwed
back together, I kept the letter in my white
coat pocket, a reminder to sit beside patients
and look out the hospital window with them,
like my first morning back at work on Rehab,
a guy my age healing from his own crash,
a basket of pears on the sill, Mt Greylock
owning the view, sharp sunlight scattered
from city windows, the ER team racing
to each screaming ambulance, hustling
stretchers toward hope, fall’s blush
in the maples, firebush in the courtyard
glowing red as a Chinese lantern.
