Every four months I sit, patient <br />On such hard wooden benches <br />As are thought suitable for bearers <br />Of many kinds of cancer <br />Without complaint, in companionship <br />Waiting for a scan <br /> <br />Thinking of the days when <br />Pensions, even indigestion <br />Were issues of concern <br />When there were no prompts or spurs <br />To consider the golden nature <br />Of a moment, an embrace <br /> <br />When I was not yet impelled <br />To weigh the meaning of the past <br />To attempt to crack the poet's code <br />To hold life so lovingly <br />In carefully cupped hands, as if <br />Nursing a wounded bird <br /> <br />Every four months, a similar parade <br />Of thoughts, by now familiar: <br />Having no fear of tiny shapes <br />Buried in my photograph <br />And in my bones belief that I <br />Am plotted at the far end of the curve <br />On the standard graph of life and time, <br />So blessed, entirely fortunate <br /> <br />Afraid only to be not free <br />To be at distance from a dream <br />Held back from the soul's pursuit <br />Of what my eyes call beautiful <br />Of what would make a better thing <br />Of what we call the world <br /> <br />And now the round white tube, wherein <br />The music of the working day falls still, <br />Embraces me. I risk falling asleep <br />Until, with a trace of irony, <br />The recorded voice cries 'breathe! '. <br />So familiar a routine, I may forget <br />How deeply you remain concerned for me, <br />To thank you for all you are to me - <br />And so I do, most deeply <br /> <br />Aroused from peaceful states, I realize <br />Here may be found, minute and visible, <br />Some verdicts on the progress of my cells <br />The footprints of my homeopathic health <br />My hopes and hard intentions to survive <br />To be for long-lived purposes <br />Alive<br /><br />Frank Bana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cat-scan-routine/
