Nurse
by: Billy Collins
The one who spoke by a window
in a stairwell,
resting her head on her arm,
said she was so many stumbles
beyond tired,
she caught herself
envying the dead
for looking like sleepers in their beds.
I worked in a medical office and hospital at the start of the pandemic, so I understand the exhaustion the nurse describes here. Seen it in doctors, nurses, orderlies, cafeteria workers. Not just bone tired. Cellularly tired.
Despite the shortened week, I find myself desperately tired tonight. Perhaps it's because I tried to cram five days of work into four days in the office.
Friday nights after dinner, I usually go to church to practice for the Saturday and Sunday services I play. If the music is familiar, it goes very quickly. If I don't recognize the music, I've been known to sit at the keyboard for several hours.
Tonight, I knew most of the hymns, so I was home and in my pajamas by 8 p.m. Now, I'm on my couch, fighting to stay awake and losing the battle.
Saint Marty needs to do some jumping jacks or just surrender to the pillow.
Pipe Organ
by: Martin Achatz
The gold pipes climb
upward like the ribs
of a giant ground sloth,
just waiting for me
to flip a switch, fill
its lungs with air
for the first time
in two million years.
