This death
This death,
born within me,
nurtured by my own body
since before I was born,
squats beside me
in this small room.
Inevitable this end
to which I descend,
the doctor tells me,
but she doesn’t know
when.
Winged shadows
gather in dark corners
and mob my mind.
I bear this dismantling
of my inner cosmos
with baffled bravery.
Alone,
now,
in this hospital room,
I hug myself,
pretending I have
nothing to fear,
though my guts
tense up
and
salt tears
fall.
rogermoorepoet 
I can only imagine what this feels like, Roger. Though you do convey the emotion very well. Thank god in reading this we are aware of the outcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Alas, I speak for many people, Meg, and the outcome wasn’t good for all of them. I can only write of my own thoughts and fears, but I know they were shared, in one way or another, by many at the hospice. It was a place where there was little room for lies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And no time for it, either… it’s very sobering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What I went through was nothing compared to what some of my friends suffered. I still break down when I think about it, though, and I am often not far from tears. A life-changing experience in so many ways.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Undoubtedly. I’m sorry Roger.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nothing to be sorry about, Meg. I am still here: very much changed, but here. Je ne regette rien as Edith Piaf would have sung. What doesn’t kill you certainly makes you stronger!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well that’s good then!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is terrifying Roger… glad to know from the comments that it gets more cheerful.
LikeLiked by 2 people
These are from The Cancer Chronicles (2014-2015). I abandoned them in 2016 and am now returning to them. It gets brighter: I am cured and still here!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank God Roger…keep well
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will rewrite the Cancer Chronicles and publish them this summer. They are strange poems but they brought me light in the darkness. Can’t ask for more than that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed you cannot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the phrase ‘mob my mind’. A theme we can all relate to. Time goes so fast.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I was thinking of the crows ‘mobbing’ an eagle or the songbirds’mobbing’ a crow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very well written. It’s terrifying to think of our own mortality…but I guess confronting it is a true mark of courage. I’m glad everything worked out for you
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I kept a journal and then left it fallow for a year, to get some distance. That’s what I’m now revising.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is powerful, Roger!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Tanya. I am revising Echoes of An Impromptu Metaphysics. This is the journal I kept while receiving treatment for cancer in the summer of 2015. I left it fallow for a year and am just beginning to start revising it. Some sadness, some joy. And a lot of memories.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It made me think of my dad when he was struggling with that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There will be other poems on the theme. I was in the Auberge / Hospice in Moncton for 8 weeks. It was a difficult time. I was stunned by the braveness of the women. They certainly impressed me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m grateful that you survived it! That speaks to your courage and heart.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Tanya. I am glad I survived as well. Clean now for 18 months. Still some side effects from the treatment, but livable with and minor in comparison.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. Melancholic but beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. It is part of a series. The beginning is sad, but it does get more cheerful.
LikeLike
That sounds interesting. A series that begins with(rather than end with) “This Death”. I will like to see how it goes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. The initial shock of the diagnosis … I will be updating regularly.
LikeLiked by 1 person