Full Moon, Occ Health

By the time he reaches 
Occupational Health 
the security officer tips his head, says 
Full moon. You can tell.   

In the bright sting of winter 
and vaccine pod fender-benders
glass doors on this edge 
of hospital campus part and shut, 
part and shut. 

Last week 
a diamond earing went missing.
With a distraught patient I
duck-walked the foyer, 
examined elevator tracks, felt
behind parked wheelchairs 
and the recycling bin, eyeballing 
every centimeter
of waxed-brick floor. No luck.

The officer has witnessed 
what the moon can stir 
in the ED, in parking lots 
and in staff kitchenettes. 

This morning, 
the earring’s on my desk. 
Housekeeping? A passing stranger?
Hard to say who brought it
back from the dead
or why they placed it here.
Bent post and prongs,  
but the stone is fine. 
Diamonds are borne from pressure, 
from heat and time. 
Carrying this one to return it 
I think 
this is resilience
not an expectation, not 
a corporate command, the kind
we give up on 
and someone else finds —
matter-of-fact — as the moon 
resetting the tides.