I will count the spiders in the window
take a walk in the morning
and a nap right after
little white dog beside me
the sun in my lap
yellow blanket wrapped tight
today I will listen
to the sound in my chest and
far off thunder;
but also understand
that a storm is coming
I will get out
Love the simplicity and gravitas!
Thank you Anne. Just really a description of my day.
Beautiful. Yours? My wife has ALK+ NSCLC stage 4. With you in the fight for joy and meaning in the midst of this fucked up lunacy that this disease is.
Yes, mine. Once upon a time I was a poet. And the barebones-ness of the format is such a lovely way to express some things. Best to you and your wife and your last sentence captures oh so much.
On Sun, Dec 23, 2018 at 5:34 PM life and breath: outliving lung cancer wrote:
> linnea11 posted: ” todayI will count the spiders in the windowtake a walk > in the morningand a nap right afterlittle white dog beside methe sun in my > lapyellow blanket wrapped tight around today I will listento the sound in > my chest and think itfar off thunder;but als” >
Incredibly talented voice, yet hard to hear the pain and the fear. The poem seems more than good enough for publication. But what matters most is that soon you hopefully get more encouraging news.
Thank you. The pain and the fear are part of it–I’d be dishonest to deny it. Mostly now I feel clarity and a real hunger for all that is good (that china). And of course, I am laser focused on the possibility of an effective therapy.
poignant poetry Linnea – love it – Was wondering if the little white dog was still with you – I would be lost with my big black dog – xxx
Little white dog and I have become closer and closer. He was a wild animal when we became companions almost two years ago but love has tamed him.
Your beautifully moving poem touches my heart. My current treatment appears to be, at least partially, failing, and I am back on the dreaded waiting train to find out what comes next. I have printed a small version of “Screw Cancer” from your blog, posted next to my computer monitor, for frequent viewing as I repeat my mantra (“Fuck Cancer”) throughout the day! I hope you enjoy the hell out of that good china and can celebrate the holidays with your family and friends with as little thought as possible of anything more sobering. Thank you for being you and for sharing so much with us. And, yes, you remain a poet 🙂
Love, peace, and a big hug ~
Kate, I am sorry that you are at a challenging place as well and may that situation soon change. And thank you—you understood exactly what I was trying to say/do with that poem. Enjoy every good thing without hesitation—the present is ours xoxo
Thank you Liz 🙂
Your poem is a treasure blooming through sorrow. Bring the good china out. xoxo