Aug 4, 2015

Internal Radiation: Round 2

Written by Kristene Brown

Read by C. Dale Young

I’m not prepared for this.
I’ve come without a god, or life
insurance.
And now,
this chemical chemo-breath
is with me again,
sharp and pulling
the dead weight
of my body
like so much debris.
I’m eager to burn
away the night sweat nunnery
of cure,
eager for the light
that pauses
at my hospital window and waits
for me. My thanks.
Outside, the sky
is ablaze in life-support shades
of red and orange.
While inside,
a sun-stunned ribbon of seed
radiates.
A remedy? We’ll see,
my doctor says.
The sun unhooks
from its thin-threaded horizon
like a body without country,
circling above, before dropping
below,
or maybe
that was the moon. Lovely, both.
From this threshold,
empty of fare-
wells,
it’s easy to confuse
day with night
and night with day,
as I watch and wait.
Tell me–
Is it early? What time? Too late?

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