Infinite arches, I loop in nothingness;
hopscotching heat, in and out of cooled corridors
leading to chlorine scented waiting rooms.
There white marbled faces stare at me with
empty eyes of loss, knowing loss, their false
smiles meant to assuage fear with small
green balls of hope for some life again.
Unseen by families struggling against odds.
Clouds shroud physicians who wear
dangling rubber gloves as symbols of skill.
They craft shields while machines shoot
heat in burning laser points and drips
of ice form architectured snowflakes, lace
cell-sized antidotes to death’s poison.
Brewed nitrates, plastics, refined oil, sugars;
toxic concoctions of modernity I’ve ingested
in my lifetime – taken what was given to subsist, now
seeking cure, I pretend music knowing beauty awaits.
(c) Gay Reiser Cannon * August, 2011
Posted for Poetics by Mark Kerstetter today at dVersepoets
Spending my time the last 8 weeks in a waiting room at a cancer center,
watching patients and their families pretend normalcy while waiting for
the fire and ice of radiation and chemotherapy. I saw that dichotomy in this