The doctor says my heart is strong
“No problem.”
Hearing the results over the intercom
the nurses rhumba on all floors,
patients of every malady joining
in or cheering them on.
A marching band turns onto a busy street,
the drivers honking away, in favor.
A storm on the verge of bursting slinks
back to hide behind the clouds, the clouds
themselves making lanes for the sunrays
to douse the proceedings in yellow.
Is the world coming to me, or am I
coming to it, faithful heart in hand. Either way
No problem.
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