Sorrow Wrapped in a Poem #goodbye #hospice #poetry

held her hand
last night's bright silver glow
tide recedes
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Winter’s Accusation #poetry #cancer #photography

bench.jpg

You can’t know how many times

I walk past that door

that stands slightly ajar

out of that crack light used to stream

now there are silent accusations

reminders that today might be my last

and I hug the threshold

brave lines etch my brow

you won’t know

but the legs beneath me

waver just slightly

and I try not to touch the edges

the sharp ones that cut my fingertips

mocking me with whispers

“it’s your last”

“you can’t pass the next test”

so I stay away from them

and look for one more day to smile

at someone who is lost and cold

 

I have given up counting the number of times I’ve been told I was going to die within days or months. I’ve died once (yes really) and I don’t fear death. Saying that, I have seen the slow receding tide of cancer; my heart goes out to anyone who has seen the tide go out on life.