See Ya later

Recently returned from my Cancer Tour,
surprised at how much we laughed,
how little we cried…actually, not at all.
There was the prostate in Sonoma,
the one no longer present,
and the pancreas in Napa,
a little smaller now.
The brain in the East Bay, pretty bleak,
having inherited its doom
from the lungs and the liver.
There are, of course, people
attached to these afflicted organs,
friends of long standing, 50 years, more.
I don’t remember what we talked about.
Talking wasn’t the point, not really.
There was more being and having than doing going on.
I know that no one said goodbye,
not even when I moved on to the next town,
or back to mine.
I had thought I’d tell them all about when I died for awhile,
on that hillside in the jungle, far from home.
No one’s ever heard the whole of that.
And they still haven’t.
I don’t know if goodbye is important to say,
not like thank you, I love you, my life is better because of you,
those you better say before you can’t.