Face and Hands

The thought of your care

Belies the fact that you excel

When you are there

To show and not tell.

Medicine is your face and hands

People swear that you have money.

And you produce enough for demands

To make your bank account sunny.

But you do it for joy.

The challenge is in the work.

You save what Death tries to destroy.

Instead of letting her lurk.

But even if breath stops,

You have a singular goal.

When brain function drops

You hold onto your role.

Folks feel that posh neighborhoods

Belong in your vest.

They sense that you have the goods

But you show your best.