Forgiveness. - Poem by Michael Walker
I forgave the doctor for a late diagnosis
of a painless illness with an uncertain prognosis
except that it could travel to distant sites,
although its future was not 'will' but 'might'.
I forgave the radiologist who got impatient:
'We need you on the table without delay.
The catheter is for your arm: the serum is for your soul.
'To scan your whole body- radioactive -is my role'.
I try to blot out the red and green signs
and I will forget them, I guess, in time.
I will forget the cold clinical hospital itself.
I never want to go back there myself.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
I find it harder to forgive myself than others.
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