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American Life in Poetry: Rehab

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American Life in Poetry: Column 277

By Ted Kooser

Here's hoping that very few of our readers have to go through cardiac rehab, which Thomas Reiter of New Jersey captures in this poem, but if they do, here's hoping that they come through it feeling wildly alive and singing at the tops of their lungs.



We wear harnesses like crossing guards.

In a pouch over the heart,

over stent and bypass, a black

box with leads pressed onto metal

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