Thursday and A Poem

Met my radiation doc today. She is tall and dark and beautiful. :-D

Also, the November 28th issue of The New Yorker came, with a poem from one of my favorite writers in it:

Convalescing

I spend the days deciding
on a commemorative poem.
Not, luckily, an epitaph.
A quiet poem
to establish the fact of me.
As one of the incidental faces
in those stone processions.
Carefully done.
Not claiming that I was
at any of the great victories.
But that I volunteered.

~ Jack Gilbert