And then there’s my cancer…

We never know how high we are Until we are asked to rise And then if we are true to form Our statures touch the skies Emily Dickinson from poem 1176 Happiness: an illusive inner state to those of us with terminal illnesses. Each happy moment rolls into the next, yet we drive through life […]

Uncertainty

After life’s passing glory
The campaign marches on
Beating time tracking and tracing
Torsos with cold leather fingers
They drew my blood and sent me
To the mass grave I fell in without
Balance. And I lost my head.

“You look great.”

Walking up to my weatherproof face Say, “you look great,” (With the implied italics on the great.) My invalidly clear skin, Such wise wild eyes, Naturally open up wide, “Wow, you look great!“ Could you spare a surprise? Shuddering at the danger of such a storm Surging through my veins like an impulse Holding back […]

Facial Blindness*

Her brittle old tortoise shell prescriptions Blur a head of softly graying curls He needs a cut, she whispers, always to herself. Anyone in or not in the grocery store line that afternoon. Recognizing Cantaloupe, honeydew, whole milk Lettuce heads and newly sprouted wheat, and Baby spinach asleep in the sway of her basket. A […]

%d bloggers like this: