Geography of my Scars

A poem written by a patient

In the East is a railroad track running from the valley of my arm to the hilltop of my breast

In the West the creek bed curving along the ridge of a rib

It's not a perfect landscape. It's unfit for postcards, calendars or brochures

But my husband is blind to the surface flaws and I see myself through his eyes

The eyes of a native who overlooks things that only a tourist would notice.

From Bernie Segal's Love, Medicine and Miracles Video, Mystic Fire Video.
A poem written by a patient