Tuesday, March 1, 2011

First Year, Med School

So the pile grew over successive months:
Books in the language
Of science and malady,
The pages busy with tri color markings.

And the long nights with days
That were not long enough.

We dissected in unhushed voices,
Our fuzzy notions made real in flesh.

And when it was time to leave
And enter the night of stars,
I could only think
Of the tang
Of yogurt
On falafels
Two blocks away down on Woodward.


G. Rudner said...

I have tried to block out much of the big hair decade, but I distinctly recall that you were a grade A scribe. Think positive thoughts about spring being around the corner.

Megan @ FeastingonArt said...

Really lovely blog, I have enjoyed browsing your poetry. Where in the midwest are you? I was born and raised in Michigan.

Denise | Chez Danisse said...


Cha sen said...

Those were definitely the years of fashion missteps. I'm looking forward to spring... maybe a couple of days in NYC:-)

A former Michigander (or is it Michiganian) myself, I am now in the land of the Cheeseheads :-)
Glad you stopped by.

I am smiling too.