Nothing prepares you
No Heart Sounds
The woman in the nursing home,
your first. Sat in her chair, nightgown
bunched around her knees.
Leaning to the left,
the lack of response
when you called her name.
No Breath Sounds
The Dissection Room;
bodies in rows,
shrouded in white.
Metal trolleys with drains
leading to pipes
that empty bodily fluids
into plastic containers
Donated
In A&E, wired up and plugged in.
Bare chest, cracked ribs,
flat line.
Arrested
The man with cancer,
died at home with his
family, now laid out for you.
Pupils Fixed and Dilated
You speak to the dead
As you might the living
“May you rest in peace,”
you hear your voice say.
