July 2022
Bio Note: Despite the unspeakable news of the day, I’m currently feeling very fortunate in many ways— health, husband, kid, kid’s family in Pittsburgh, etc. But a new awareness of the fragility of life reminded me of this relatively ancient poem, which is based on the early demise of an old friend.
Leaving the Clinic
—Baja California, 2007 Having carried your own terrible frailness to the edge of the water you bent your body sharply like a broken stick, until you were kneeling in the sand. If the world weren’t so damned beautiful, you said, maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad— But then you saw how a small rain had picked the creamy skin of the beach overnight causing snails to leave their sanctuaries, and the pursed hibiscus buds to fatten and explode, and with the sea collapsing around us thinning to a glassy sheen that blinded you you hid your face behind your hands and shook with unrequited love.
Originally published in Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) 279, No. 22
©2022 Marilyn Taylor
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