Waiting for Surgery

Tonight the world smells of smoke,

vinegar, rust, ripe pears, ancient herbs,

the spices of chrism.

The moon’s thin blade

wants to slice me in half . . .

–Excerpt from “Waiting for Surgery” in Hanging Like Hope on the Equinox by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2013). First published in Journal of the American Medical Association.

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