Douglas Polk — THREE POEMS
A BEGINNING
The sun rises outside the bedroom window,
a kindly orange and yellow,
a good omen,
across the room,
she moans in her sleep,
her breathing shallow and ragged,
I wonder if she remembers,
or is conscious of the fact,
another round of chemo begins today.
THE DAILY STRUGGLE
afraid to turn on a light,
or open a door,
the fear alive and growing,
unknown where the odious creature lurks,
mysteriously stalking throughout the day,
the fact known it feeds on fear,
the uneasy mind already within its clutches,
controlled and manipulated,
though in truth,
the creature nowhere in sight,
survival more a state of mind,
than an anticipated outcome.
DEATH COMETH
Watching as the final breath leaves her body,
unsure of where her essence has gone,
the body still warm, but the eyes cold,
an ultimate end,
each day one step closer,
surprising depression isnt more rampant,
but what to do,
Death only part of the ride,
as our planet spins into eternity.
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