poem

 IslandEvery island is a mountain in the middle of the oceanAnd every mountain is an island stranded in a dry seaI imagine you ’re the warm tropical surfLapping against my wind lashed stone It ’s the perfect combination:A damaging wisdom mixed with lust Some stars become someone ’s honored SunBut all Suns are just someone else ’s star Will we stay here long enoughTo see our home become a ruins?Can we bear to watch a raw weeping woundScab over and someday thicken into scar?The opposite of love was never hateFor the loveless are simply the lonely. On this dry plain I prefer to call myself an island.Storms are coming, I sense the waters rising 5/22/22

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 22, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs