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Death of a doctor
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     Be the shade from sun on the snow covered road

    a white scar left where the basal cell was removed

    deep and rooted

    Be the cut of the surgeon's knife

    the harbinger of news from tall places

    the bridge you stood on the night you thought

    I could if then not now maybe

    be the long shadow that is lost in the dark

    in a prairie city on a uneasy March night

    in the backyard of your retinas

    They are the ones you can see

    Your discontent feeds your memory

    The white ash is only the ash

    of another barkless tree without birds

    Your hands hold open a new book

    They are not the hands that once pushed you

    To obey or not to obey

    is your choice

    is your choice

    Your recall is excellent

    You put on your white lab coat

    over the pressed striped shirt

    over the black pressed pants

    You put on your polished black shoes

    You combed your hair across your forehead

    You pared your nails

    You noticed the white in the nail beds

    It was telling you something

    You listened:

    "Today is the day you risk everything

    to discover the last philosophy

    of yourself on this earth."(Yvonne Trainer)