*A shadow on the upper right lobe,
its probably nothing*
Its close to Christmas,
I think about our first
and how purple it was,
sunflower medallions
and George Winston.
I grew my hair long
and wore camouflage.
We ought to run a few more tests
My guilt was more than
I could carry back then,
gallons in half gallon buckets,
blood splashing onto
white carpet.
*We'll get a little more blood on
Tuesday*
The waiting game was nearly terminal,
the kids and I exchanged gifts in the Sears
parking lot. When I got home you held me.
We need to talk in my office for a minute
I cried about the choices they made.
You were never unkind. The rosaries I
made were hung on our bedposts,
they hang there still.
The shadow on your lung is a tumor
Its been five years. They're adults now
and old enough to hear about death.
I'll schedule a biopsy for after Christmas
I don't think I'll tell them.
I don't think I'll tell you either..
maybe just once we'll have a peaceful holiday.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 4:46 AM UTC
*A shadow on the upper right lobe,
its probably nothing*
Its close to Christmas,
I think about our first
and how purple it was,
sunflower medallions
and George Winston.
I grew my hair long
and wore camouflage.
We ought to run a few more tests
My guilt was more than
I could carry back then,
gallons in half gallon buckets,
blood splashing onto
white carpet.
*We'll get a little more blood on
Tuesday*
The waiting game was nearly terminal,
the kids and I exchanged gifts in the Sears
parking lot. When I got home you held me.
We need to talk in my office for a minute
I cried about the choices they made.
You were never unkind. The rosaries I
made were hung on our bedposts,
they hang there still.
The shadow on your lung is a tumor
Its been five years. They're adults now
and old enough to hear about death.
I'll schedule a biopsy for after Christmas
I don't think I'll tell them.
I don't think I'll tell you either..
maybe just once we'll have a peaceful holiday.
disclaimer: this is for the most part fiction.
