The Hum of Life

The Hum of Life

Whitman once asked
What good amid these, O me, O life?
and the question comes for me
standing beside a young woman rapidly dying
from a tumor filling her heart.

Then while walking down lamp-lit streets with
homeless men shivering in damp doorways
or when crowds of phone-peering people
throng to catch morning trains,
more questions,

about what my father dreamt of
the night he died in his sleep on Kilimanjaro
or what doctors a millennium from now will think
about the medical care I provide,
the patients I cannot save,

and why I sometimes feel as
futile as a bloodletter 
when the body’s rhythms and the hum of life
are as opaque and silent
as a snow-filled farm.

by our guest writer Avraham Z. Cooper

Share This Tale

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on email

Join Written Tales

Helping connect readers & writers!

Recommended Tales


The Trains

Trains go forwardWhatever it takesNo way is awkwardNo time for breaks. Whether it rainsOr burning sunNo stop for trainsUntil it’s

Read More »

Leave a Comment

Join Written Tales
Helping readers & writers connect!