Total Pageviews

Sunday, April 5, 2015

When It's My Turn

I remember fairly well
those few days up north,
my cancer trip and visits,
a few days to say good-bye,
without really saying it.
There were four of them,
prostate, liver, lungs and brains,
three gone now,
only one remains.
The hugs long and real,
at least that’s how I feel
about it now, the words
I don’t remember,
mostly reminiscent,
true and tender.
Now, I wonder who I’ll see
if I’m lucky, at the brink,
what my last words will be.
Though no one has the time they think.
So it might be better
to do it now, in a departure letter,
have some closure, my friends and I,
even leave some things unsaid,
less of a nuisance when I die.
If not a letter, some other form
of signing off I’ll choose.
I’m not in a hurry,
but, really, there’s time to lose.

No comments:

Post a Comment