Fall
by Shandhini Raidoo, '11
While I explored the branches of the external carotid artery
All the leaves fell off the tree on the corner by my apartment;
The shallow leaf lake below it
has deepened
I would bury myself up to my knees
if I had the time
to walk through it.
While I memorized the budding of endocytotic vesicles
The bright yellow twin trees turned grey and bare
As I ride by I think how
their chlorophyll has given up and fled
It is an automatic, fleeting thought
As my bike wheels whirr.
While I cycled CO2, whisked away in the Krebs cycle
The ladybugs left the park across the street.
Had I time to sit there now
(which I don’t)
I would be surrounded by a stillness
Unpunctured
by my tiny friends.
Somehow it has turned cold
I ride my bike to school in the dark
To home in the dark
Somewhere outside, while I ran on
my medical school hamster wheel
An entire season passed me by;
I pedal faster on my bike.
Now, while I fight my way through
the tangles of the brachial plexus
A lecturer is droning about cost per life years gained
(in healthcare evaluation)
I wonder about the cost per years of my life
(in evaluation of my health). I realize
That the law of diminishing returns does not have to apply
to me.
