Cancer and I

are weaving through the dull
half light where, grey
amongst willows, ghosts

lurk—waiting to crawl
from root and bough,
into my turbulent mind.

My thoughts descend
to the angry red patch
invading my flesh. I want

to fling off my shirt and stare at
my future. Five miles behind, my
wife lies asleep, eyes battened

against this new dawn,
while I sink to my knees
in the mist and scream,

I deny! I defy!
My children are sleeping—
unaware of the curse

I hurl skyward
before turning for home.
I'll wake them

with kisses, with smiles,
with lies.



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