Lyrics
“Atoll (The Reversed Halo)”
(Verse 1) I am the echo, the backward design, The one who is sought, the Atoll sign. While others are solid with halos of mist, I am the reverse of the one on your list. I am not the nodule, a solid, dense stone, With a faint, hazy halo around it alone. No, I am the center, a delicate lake, A “ground-glass” opacity, for goodness’ sake.
(Chorus) I am a ring of consolidation’s might, A crescent of white ’round a center of light. They call me “Reversed Halo,” a curious thing, Or “Atoll,” like islands in a coral-reef ring.
(Verse 2) My heart is the haze, the soft, misty gray, Where the lung is but partially filled in the fray. But look to my edges! My shore and my rim, There, I am solid, and dense, and brim. I am the footprint, the classic, the clue, Of Organizing Pneumonia (COP) passing through.
(Chorus) I am a ring of consolidation’s might, A crescent of white ’round a center of light. They call me “Reversed Halo,” a curious thing, Or “Atoll,” like islands in a coral-reef ring.
(Bridge) But do not be fooled, I am shared by a few, You must look closer to see what is true. The fungi may wear me (Mucor, Aspergillus), In a host who is weak, they are often zealous. Tuberculosis (TB) can carve out my ring, A healing infarct or sarcoid I bring.
(OutLro) So when you see me, the ring on the scan, The haze in the middle, the consolidated span, Remember my mimics, and form a broad plan, I am the Atoll, a sign… not the man.
A Poem
Atoll Sign or the Reversed Halo
I am the echo, the backward design,
The one who is sought, the Atoll sign.
While others are solid with halos of mist,
I am the reverse of the one on your list.
I am not the nodule, a solid, dense stone,
With a faint, hazy halo around it alone.
No, I am the center, a delicate lake,
A “ground-glass” opacity, for goodness’ sake.
My heart is the haze, the soft, misty gray,
Where the lung is but partially filled in the fray.
But look to my edges! My shore and my rim,
There, I am solid, and dense, and brim.
I am a ring of consolidation’s might,
A crescent of white ’round a center of light.
They call me “Reversed Halo,” a curious thing,
Or “Atoll,” like islands in a coral-reef ring.
I am the footprint, the classic, the clue,
Of Organizing Pneumonia (COP) passing through.
But do not be fooled, I am shared by a few,
You must look closer to see what is true.
The fungi may wear me (Mucor, Aspergillus),
In a host who is weak, they are often zealous.
Tuberculosis (TB) can carve out my ring,
A healing infarct or sarcoid I bring.
So when you see me, the ring on the scan,
The haze in the middle, the consolidated span,
Remember my mimics, and form a broad plan,
I am the Atoll, a sign… not the man.