I wait alone
wrapped in paper
shivering amidst cold
the door pressed hard
against my chest

this time a year ago
I met a similar fate
the verdict returned
       cancer
a word my mind
has deconstructed
reconstructed
discarded
as my past

tears erupt behind
my eyes
how can I afford
to fight again
at what cost
and during
a pandemic

the door **** twists
as she emerges
eyes averted
my throat scored
in pain
"It's benign,
come back
6 months from now"

unable to move
I peer through haze
minutes tease silence
then with
trembling fingers
I dial his number
Aiden answers
    "Mom, you okay?"
nodding tearfully
with newfound certainty
I finally whisper, "Yes!"

the two men shared a
kindred connection
though each one was very
different in perception  

they both had a love
for water colour painting
oft they'd sit at an
easel's acquainting  

one of the artists being
a most evil man
whilst the other artist
showed a far gentler pan

yet an abiding affection
of visual art
tied them together
and not apart