poetry experiment.

I’ve been thinking of writing poetry again.
Oh, how I have missed it!
And I forgot how much
I missed it.
How do you forget your first writing love?
I think going back to age 13,
before cancer,
will jump-start my creativity.
Not like it’s not there—
I feel the words,
see them like snowflakes
in the snowglobe of my mind
and I am trying to catch them.
Chemo snowglobe mind—
I must shake myself everyday
just to make sure I am still alive and functioning.

I am a dog mom,
mother to a white fur baby toddler,
and a police officer wife.
The Officer longs to fight the crimes
that go on inside of me more than anything.
And maybe that is why
he became a cop—
to try to protect me from the outside world
since he can’t protect me from within
against my very self/cells.
Cancer has crime scenes
marked all over my body—
from bones to lungs to hips—
the evidence is everywhere
and the verdict is guilty.
And although it tries to murder me
with every new relapse, scene, and place
I am escaping by grace.

And maybe this poetry thing
is just what I needed.
A reminder that I’m not just an essayist
but a poet.
My heart sings psalms
as the chemo drugs calm
the overactive cells within me
saying: breathe
and live
and give life to words and others.
Your end has not come.
Do not daydream of funerals or tears
All of those fears are misplaced
because this writing space
creates vision for the future:
hope.

5 thoughts on “poetry experiment.

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