if not a healing wound?
toes missing, trans-metatarsal amputation,
remaining tissue puckering deep pink:
raw beauty in disfigurement.
He shows me pictures on his cell phone,
the toes felt doused with molten metal.
Before debridement: brown-black,
the foot decaying like a leaf in winter.
Now: under the dressing,
a pared-down foot,
not yet for walking.
Patient with a body
shedding parts,
he is a man distilled:
joy at healing.
3 thoughts on “And What Is Beautiful”
Marta, what a delight, as I was belatedly catching up with my email in-box, to see your byline on last week’s “Friday story” from Pulse! What a beautifully observed vignette. Your patients are lucky!
I admire anyone who can communicate a lot through the limited form of poetry. Your specific word choices painted a clear picture of a medical issue and the person dealing with it. Thank you for beginning 2024 in such a beautiful, heartfelt way.
I love this poem for its amazingly vivid imagery and its hopefulness–especially poignant and needed at this time of year! Thank you so much!