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chemo

the same old line jumps off my tongue

 

hi, how are you

i'm fine, how are you?

i'm well, thank you

 

this time,

there is a pause

 

the old man looks at me

his skinned is tanned as a hide

but not as wrinkled as some

you can see through his blue eyes

his spirit lurks close to the surface of his eyes

they seem to contain a whirlwind of white clouds and sky

his gray hair is quite dark and shiny

it lays in columns on his head

combed to perfection

 

we're both lying the old man says quietly

i look up

surprised that someone would question my honesty

i really am well i tell him how are you lying?

i just got out of chemotherapy

he tells me this matter of factly and i feel slightly awkward as i look up at him from my work

i'm sorry. your hair looks great.

thank you.

your total is 53.54. i hope you have a good day.

thank you. the same to you.

the conversation was over

and i will never see the old man with cancer who came through my check out line ever again

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
claire-3
American
Published
Aug 1, 2012
Lines·Words
27·196
Permission

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