A thank you to all the doctors we know . . .
I see or hear
that more or less
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
It was what I was born for —
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world —
~Mary Oliver from “Mindful”
Some days I’m the needle
and other days I’m the pin cushion
This day was some of both
of soft lit floating fog,
doing chores with my neighbor kids,
saying a final goodbye to an old farmer from down the road,
missing a favorite poet’s reading
to deal with a patient’s suicidal crisis.
I long to rest in the softness of the light
that floats close to the ground,
reaching with cloudy fingers
to hold me close, sharp edges and all,
a reminder of what I was born for.