i don’t really know her
“wow!” she says, a usually safe greeting
it is my creeping journey
balanced by my cheap aluminum walker
that has caught her interest
“what happened,” she presses
“you don’t want to know,” i say
“it’s an ugly story.”
smile
“tell me anyway!” she says
so i do
~
when i say “cancer” something happens with her eyes
and her body moves almost imperceptibly
putting a bit of distance between us
now i am not quite the person i was just a moment before
~
where is your leper’s bell?
the wagon, the crier going before
“bring out your dead.”
~
cancer
if you don’t have it
haven’t had it
or know someone who does
and you must know what is going on
be ready to also know
what is going on with you