Prognosis

The cancer lurks
holding my lung captive
growing slowly
a glacier inching along
leaving behind my shattered breath.

They tell me I will
likely die of something else,
some complication, not unexpected
but sudden.

And so I wait.

On bad days I spend time
gathering hymns and psalms
for my funeral.
Yet, this morning I felt
not invincible
but suspended in time.
I ordered antibiotics
for the cleaning of my teeth,
bought two pairs of black shoe laces
though I only have one pair of lacing shoes,
and an eight pack of Dial soap,
gold, unscented.

I genuflect to the inner wisdom
and wave away
the white coated men.

A Hermit Holds My Heart
Ellen Porter
Benetvision