It is not October, but I wear pink
on my sleeve, shade of rose
for the woman whose 1 remaining
breast will be carved out, incised &
cultured for further study, she
whose smiles never dim in grey spring days
showed me the long stitches running
her chest like burnt roots of an aging tree-
Here-
dead center are the cancer cells
"I don't know when I will be back"
She sways with an easy grace of cherry bloom
I turn to work in my cube, stirred by
currents greater than my small world can imagine-
What if the cure has no more to give?
Does one forsake medicine to live fully to the last breath?
The day stretches as bows unfurling in sudden gust of cold wind
but I am forever changed by
touch of her courage
in the face of a formidable stone-willed foe-
Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Turning Pink ~ In my prior post, I have shared that my office mate will undergo breast surgery next week. Through her story, I am able to appreciate the journey of breast cancer survivors.
Picture credit: here
