It began with a slight
pain in her side,
nothing new really.
She was witty,
knowledgeable and golden,
and she loved me.
Then it came,
somber the night was.
Dragging those
beautiful thighs,
from love and sleep.
To a hospital bed
and the dangerous tides of
palliative chemotherapy.
And death dropped from
the dark,
a ghost standing on a bridge.
And everybody hurts.
A Wandering Poet 
Oh, such heartache. Beautifully written.
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Thank you….I gave a lecture yesterday…’Poetry in Medicine’…I started to ruminate on some things….
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You are welcome and that sounds interesting. I am glad those ruminations helped lead to this piece.
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