Auscultation of the Heart

   by Joseph Gascho

I try not to listen too long

Because even if it all sounds normal

You will think I have heard

The whish of a leaking valve about to let go

And loose blood to flood your lungs.

But if I don’t listen long enough

You will think that by spending

less time with you

I can see more patients

And make more money

And buy a yacht

While listening

Should I look at this black double-tubed instrument

Or off at the shelf on the wall

That holds brochures that tell you

How to lose weight and stop smoking?

Or should I close my eyes?

Should I smile

(But not too much)?

Surely I must not frown.

Should I nod my head?

Surely I must not shake it.

My right hand presses the diaphragm, then bell

Against your chest.

What should I do with my left hand?

Can I lay it on your shoulder?

Or should it hang down limp and loose?

At least I need not fear

That you know what I think.

I think.

 Wild Onions, 2008, p. 19, (honorable mention)