we share wine without consequence earth stained quilt and questions you will be leaving soon scatter my ashes across these blue hills my arms are just not strong enough to hold you here
doctors know the cold facts unaware of this breeze the clouds we memorize and whisper they speak of death in measure of time
we feel damned by our faith helpless beneath the sun we also fear our slumping shoulders and the haze of echo feeding within our eyes
we're scheduled for another appointment noon tomorrow hopefully we will stink of wine sex and miracles doctors and nurses will read your chart flex their jaws deep thoughts wrinkled no explanation the cancer's gone we will smirk and thank our angels
we share a laughter lazy and without conditions curious as to how this precise moment could possibly end on sterile sheets your drinking straw shaking between my fingers the desperation of feeding tubes if you should forget remember these blue hills
This poem was originally published in Cantaraville "Eleven."
After performing music and poetry around the Boston area for the past twenty years, Derek Richards recently began submitting his work. So far his work has appeared in more than forty publications. To date, however, no publishing has left him more grateful than this one. At an early age, he watched his grandmother suffer through cancer for three agonizing years before finally claiming her at just 63 years old. He hopes this poem serves as a prayer for every person going through treatment and for those who have survived treatment.