To a young doctor

Make every diagnosis a poem

The words you choose will never matter more (or be less forgotten)

Arrows and missiles to unseen targets a reverberation of souls

For you another organ or limb or body for them the only one

Your words do not just foretell the odds of life or death (or something in between)

They deliver hope or render it stillborn they make you a trusted ally (or something else)

Choose them well they are already unforgettable

Make the words beautiful a vessel to carry whatever comes next

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