Cancer
Mar 1, 2021
Bangles glistening in the sun,
You can hear them as they clang against each other,
The clusters hugging her arms, fingers, and neck tight,
They are like a lifeline,
When she is full of life they sing together and glisten.
This is how I know when she is sick,
The clusters disappear,
A silent song on her wrists,
The sun sets without beauty,
Without its last glisten on her wrist.
Five times the word cancer has been said,
Five times a dagger has been thrust through my heart.
So bangles mean life,
And silence means emptiness.
Sickness,
Not just of her body,
But of my soul.