Every week we’re publishing the winning poems from April’s medical poetry contest. This week’s poem won Honorable Mention.
Doctor
By Katherine Crowley
She says his coat reminds her
of May: crabapple blossoms
in sun, so white they refract
bright hues and greens.
And she says his movements
beneath the white feel
like a warm prayer
in a place she thought should be
Godless cold.
We both call to fear
like a dog off his leash,
because we think we need it,
but his coat says surrender, and
we listen and obey.
And when I imagine leaving the pristine
for a cigarette — envision
the easy lightness of
smoky wisps skimming the cold air and the
bright tip slowly receding —
in the pack of cylinders all I see
is beige.
The coat saves my mother.
The coat saves me.