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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Religious · #851355
In honor of breast cancer surivor Aunt Pat (Treeshee), for Writer's Cramp.
The day they told you it was cancer
you said it can’t hurt me
as if addressing some cruel kid at school
as if you could crawl back to childhood
where bullies went away when you ignored them.

The day they said it’s in the lymph nodes
you smiled like you didn’t comprehend
as if to address a foreign tourist
as if you didn’t speak the language of disease
and were in no mood to learn it.

The day they cut away your breast
you said I’ll bet I lost 10 pounds
as if we needed you to joke about this thing
as if anything but laughter would be tears
and our crying some kind of defeat.

The day they told you it had disappeared
You said I told you so
as if you’d proven the theory of miracles
as if miracles grew all around us
nurtured by hope & ripe for harvest.


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