Welcome to Poetry Friday. Today I am the host and I’m feeling a needed boost today, weather-wise. Spring is in the air–it’s warm and the sun has showed up in Syracuse, having shone elsewhere for quite a while. So, Yay!!!
What is Poetry Friday? Find out here.
I’m celebrating women’s history month by finding One Step Forward by Marcie Flinchum at my local library. Can’t wait to read it.
I also am about to read the Narrative of Sojourner Truth which I have never read.
I look forward to reading all your blogs! Please leave your blog address with Mr. Linky at the end of this post.
Before I continue, I would like to thank Laura Shovan for the 13th Annual February Facebook Poetry Project. Click on her name to find her blog containing useful information for poets and teachers, though I’m sure many are familiar with her work. In February, I was inspired by the daily prompts all by different poets on Facebook.
Like many I’ve been thinking about public service with all the firing of government civil servants, who, in their different ways, save lives. Think of the Department of Education. By supporting schools and scholarships, those civil servants certainly save lives by investing in the future of all students. Think of the Department of Justice that is supposed to investigate crime, and researchers at the NIH. Those who spend their lives helping others are special people.
I will share a short poem I wrote about nurses, who care for people 24/7 in V.A. Hospitals. When I was an intern the VA was a favorite place to work. The veterans were always grateful for their care and liked the young students who came by, even as they were poked and prodded. The patients taught students a great deal, as did the nursing staff.
NIGHT NURSE
In our busy ER
monitors beep
people in pain,
records to keep.
I’ve been working since midnight,
a twelve hour shift,
IV’s to hang,
sick patients to lift.
lunch break at five,
from the chaos, a gap,
I close my eyes
for a moment,
and steal a short nap.
© Janice Scully 2023
The middle of the night in a hospital is special. It’s a world that few get to see, away from the noise and commotion of the busier hectic day shift. For staff, circadian rhythms seemed to bottom out around 5AM, and must recover however they can until the shift ends.
In the 19th century, Walt Whitman wrote about nursing in a most serious way. He worked as a nurse during the Civil War, caring for dying soldiers, describing in depth his experience in the poem, Nursing the Wounded and Dying. It’s a long poem. Here is an excerpt:
Excerpt from Nursing the Wounded and Dying
by Walt Whitman
With dear or critical cases I generally sit by the restless all the dark night,
Some are so young, some suffer so much.
I stand in the dark with drooping eyes by the worst-suffering and the most restless,
I pass my hands soothingly to and fro a few inches from them;
I find deep things, unreckoned by current print or speech—
It is perhaps the greatest interchange of magnetism human relations are capable of.
His “interchange of magnetism” in human relations is fascinating and emotionally touching; the feeling passing from patient to care giver. Here’s his likeness on a copy of his collection Leaves of Grass.
There are more men in nursing now. But it began as a women’s profession in the mid-nineteenth century. Florence Nightingale did much to established nursing as a profession during her work in the Crimea and later, and should be remembered.
During this time of upheaval which seems to involve every corner of the United States, I’ve appreciated by family and friends more than ever. I have become much more aware of those who serve our country and keep people and democracy alive. I look forward to reading all of your posts.
