Cancer

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.