Belle
by
James Shammas
(Age: 44)
copyright 09-04-2005
Age Rating: 7 to 127
Her smooth silken cheeks are still rosy pink.
The taut, plump skin still springs back.
Her eyelids twitch like she is dreaming.
I can still smell the shampoo in her hair,
See her ambitious morning rising,
A cab to catch with a pop-tart stuffed
In her mouth, on the way to the meeting
She did not make-- all of us waiting,
Her vital signs dancing on sleek machines,
Hugging her like a fortress, where I can
Watch her unhindered, like a voyeur,
Peeking under skin too, for the dreamer--
Her yesterday, today, and tomorrow,
Art and beauty, the timeless and true.
Do they coalesce in a body of repose
Like Keats's urn and 'all ye need to know?'
I stare and wonder at her facial blush
Rising through me like a fizzling fuse.
I stare until the buzzing and beeping
Stop me,
A warning I must leave the ICU,
March out with head bowed and penitent,
Talk to the family who patiently waits,
Then disconnect her from the cold machine.
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How have I missed this for so long. A truly moving story. You are one of the many unsung heroes, forced to make such choices, and live with the aftermath.
Some find consolation in the belief of an after life, some do not.
Maybe this is why religion was invented.
It must be one of the hardest things that life can give to someone. With all the knowledge we have there is the fact that we are not in control and sometimes we can't stop the inevitable. Life is truly in the hands of someone or something with a greater purpose. We can only do what we can and then its in God's hands. I do not envy this part of your job, but I admire you for doing what you do! Anthony
Another great write, that makes us appreciate life, and hold deep respect for those who work with the sick and dying. Not an easy job!
"Then disconnect her from the cold machine." I can't imagine what that would be like.
Once again, you have painted a picture of a life most of us don't know, and I thought my job was stressful!
The imagery here is overwhelmingly somber as in a moment of sheer contemplation, the doctor is able to look beyond the body and wonder if life is worth living. This is a very sad end to a young life, a life that was possibly ended by a stroke, for the brain must be dead if support must be discontinued. It's funny, though, how she could not make her Earthly meeting, but yet she is going to make a more important meeting, the one with her maker. Excellent piece of poetry, Jim!
Welcome !
