The doctor unlocked his instrument case as carelessly
As a child opens an old box of blocks,
And almost silently whistled something out of “Aida.”
And the nurses—bits of sky with thick clouds—
Chattered about patients and hummed frayed songs.
But when the still body on the little cart came,
The lips of the doctor became stiff and trim
(Bows of ribbon turning to circles of stone)
And the nurses were no longer women:
Were sexless, with tapering fingers and metal eyes...