First the catheter, slimmest filament,
slid in by expert hands
The next needle delivers
a pillowy somnolence
your russet-furred rabbit face falling
gently into my cradling palm
Then the final dose,
doctor calculated for your now boney, bunny frame
Muscle memory. It’s an amazing thing. It’s what keeps my fingers playing Für Elise on the piano long after I’ve stopped taking lessons. It’s the pressure I sense in the crook of my elbow from linking arms with my late husband. It’s why every time I go for a walk I feel the pull of the leash from my dog Elvis, even though he too is gone.
Muscle memory holds on to real memories. And each time my muscle memory kicks in, I want to link arms with my husband, play Beethoven on the piano and walk my dog.
Remya Tharackal Ravindran
About the artist:
Remya Tharackal Ravindran is an internist/geriatrician based in Massachusetts. “Photography is my dose of meditation in action. It straps me to the present moment and forces me to look, rather than merely see. Sometimes we are blinded to things that are staring us in the face, until we begin to ‘look.’”
About the artwork:
“This picture was taken during a regular office visit. This puppy, the constant companion of one of my disabled patients, was snug in the handbag as usual, waiting beside the patient’s daughter. Though the puppy’s stomach was growling with
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