Tuesday Poem: "AB Negative (The Surgeon's Poem)" by Brian Turner

AB Negative (The Surgeon's Poem)

Thalia Fields lies under a grey ceiling of clouds,
just under the turbulence, with anesthetics
dripping from an IV into her arm,
and the flight surgeon says The shrapnel
cauterized as it traveled through her
here, breaking this rib as it entered,
burning a hole through the left lung
to finish in her back, and all of this
she doesn't hear, except perhaps as music —
that faraway music of people's voices
when they speak gently and with care,
a comfort to her on a...