I don’t sightsee.
There’s not much there to see:
Sand and goats and the French military.
I go to do.
Give my hands, my back, and a few
Long days to see the surgeries through.
So, if this is my last swan song,
At least I went out with my scrubs still on.
1 comment:
this hawks whisper
as wings slice the night air
new thoughts glide
_m
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