Nurses spend more time with patients than most other types of providers and have unique insight into patient care and the the healthcare system.
Two Poems by an ED Nurse
Mask
-from Latin, masca (specter, nightmare)
My borrowed face,
incorporeal, blue—
I give you only
my eyes.
First Sunday on the Ward, Pandemic
Deft swallows nest inside the thorny crown of a stone Christ.
I whisper Our Father . . .
twice
over the scrub sink.
-Editor’s note: These two spare poems were sent to us recently by Stacy Nigliazzo, an ED nurse and poet whose work has been featured in JAMA and the Bellevue Literary Review, as well as in AJN’s Art of Nursing column. We don’t usually publish poems on this blog, but make an exception here because they seemed to us urgent and yet timeless. Publishing them implies no affiliation of AJN with any particular religion. At the same time, it’s only natural that faiths and practices of every sort are likely to be a source of strength and meaning during this time for nurses around the world.