Sunday, August 21, 2011

Orchid by my Bedside

There is an orchid by my bedside,
Purple, tall in stance.
Gracefully smiling at me,
Bringing joy with each glance.

A gift from a neighbor,
That I hardly know.
A gift so timely,
On a day, so slow.

Slow in stolen moments,
Where I still have my hair.
Now thinning so effortlessly,
With each breath and without flair.

With each movement,
Another hair falls,
Silently to my shoulder.
Resting and uncalled.

"Let it be gone!"
Is what my brain wants to say,
My heart weeps alone,
That it has happened this way.

A cancer patient again,
Nothing tells more,
Than a young, bald head,
Hat covered and adorn.

At least chemo is working,
And the hair will grow back.
Justification comes easy,
Helps my spirit, intact.

Flowers by my bedside,
Faithful and true,
Representing beauty,
My life, renewed.

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