Each year I looked into his face.
Gracious always, he knew what to say,
allayed my fears repeatedly,
greeted me like a friend.
Spending a moment
meant everything.
Bringing warmth to cold,
holding my shaking hand,
standing taller because he knew.
True survivor,
pure voice strong and deep,
keeping hope, he lived
giving it too.
Truly a good man
and a rare physician.
Note: I wrote this poem for Guillermo Zambrano, M.D. He was a radiologist who faithfully read my mammograms every year for over 15 years. He survived his own battle with throat cancer but tragically died in an automobile accident this past Friday. He will be missed.
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, Chained Rhyme
Note: I wrote this poem for Guillermo Zambrano, M.D. He was a radiologist who faithfully read my mammograms every year for over 15 years. He survived his own battle with throat cancer but tragically died in an automobile accident this past Friday. He will be missed.
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, Chained Rhyme
