I thought I was done with this
Sort of thing
When I stuck myself
With the needle from
The toddler with AIDS
Whose heart made wrong
Was failing
He got it from bad blood
I saw his mother pre-chew his food
“If you had a baby you’d understand”
Now I might but then I
Didn’t.
Nor did I die
Or even get sick.
But he did
After my shift one day.
Or the teen with
Thalassemia
He got sick from
Bad blood too
And then the painful bumps.
It hurt him so much when
I did the biopsy
That we both cried
Leiomyosarcomas they were
He is long gone, too
Only the case report
Lives on.
And now
Here I am writing this.
The fog
On my glasses and
The masks
On my face and
Theirs.
The rabbi
The hospital chaplain.
He always stopped by to talk to my mother
When she was admitted
For her heart.
He went fast, in the first few weeks.
And my colleague’s father in law
One day working in the ICU in Brooklyn
Next day in there himself
Gasping and then gone.
And our building porter.
He lived too but not
His brother, his in-laws
Or his wife.
Keep in mind
I’m not complaining
Just writing down
Some memories
That trouble me.