Cheer me up with a knitted cancer hat
and a joke about tomorrow's goal
being that of getting to the end,
safe and unharmed past the chemotherapy combat.

Clear me up with plastic pills that
sit on the tongue and slit the throat
and the surrounding gum,
all to get better and to get back on the feet.

Cheat me with wise words that you
pawned off of pages and curdled
website phrases that offer
nothing more than a little comfort for yourself.

*Take me to where tracks lead to tracks that lead to douglas fir lined, dirtier farmyard tracks and let me breathe in that sap, that golden wood-coated scent that'll wrap itself around my nostrils and hat.