Med Poetry Healing through Words

In a Dissecting Room

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SIGHTLESS eyes half closed beneath

Long, black lashes curling yet;

Wavy locks the pale face wreathe

With the salty drops still wet.

Lying there so silently

Womanhood reproachful seems;

Tis a face that we may see

Reappear in troubled dreams.

Lifeless, wasted arm and hand

Stripped of skin by scalpel keen;

Shining tendons, band on band

Ligaments and muscles seen.

Wondrously the fingers move,

Answering to the testing touch

Of each muscle far above.

Whilst the learner marvels much

Searcher, would that thou couldst find

What mysterious power once moved

That dead form! How vain and blind

This long quest of ours has proved!

Now the forceps and the knife

Merciless attack the face

Eagerly with death at strife,

Winning by a swifter pace.

Inch by inch the clinging skin

With reluctance parting shows

Unknown wonders far within.

Sources whence expression flows.

Tiny threadlike muscles here

Teach the lips to move in smiles;

Draw the eyelids tense with fear.

Close them when soft sleep beguiles.

These have knit the brows to frown;

Those have taught the mouth to kiss;

Care and pain have oft weighed down

Wrinkling forehead’s calm with this

These once spread the nostrils wide

When in anger breath came fast;

Or when blew from ocean’s tide

Airs of health caught ere they passed.

Magic house, where sometime dwelt

Spirit, soul, howe ‘er ’tis known!

Ah, what thrills thy walls have felt!

Whither has thy tenant flown ?

If this ruined home appear

Wonderful beyond compare.

What was then the dweller here

That could vanish into air?

By: Dr. William Burt Harlow

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