Cancer/writing Journal #108

 Good news first;  my PSA is too low to be detectable.  Despite the monotonous regularity, it is good news and something that I am grateful for.  Cancer is a disease that makes a counterattack but not yet.  My sister-in-law, Judy, has been found to have cancer throughout her body and has been told she has three to six months of life left.  She is 82, ten years older than my wife but the age difference diminishes with the advancing years.  She lives in Sun City Az.  My wife was there for a week or so about a month ago.  Judy wants her to come back.  Anyway, it has brought to mind the other side of cancer, the swift and  lethal foe who has not mercy.

My three month appointment this week was with my Oncologist, not the PA whom I ordinarily see.  He reported that his father has been diagnosed with prostate cancer.  He asked whether his father could read my blog.  I readily gave my assent.  So, if you are there, doctor's father, welcome!  I haven't been very cancery recently:  more poetry I have written.  I hope the earlier entries are something that resonated or were in some ways helpful.  I would be happy to talk over the phone.  If that is something that you would like to do, I bet we can figure out a way to make that happen.

I do have more poems.  A canine theme to both of them.

Welcome Home

 Two hours or two days I’ve been gone,

 and yet the welcome is the same.

  My little dog, a quick dance, a four footed jig. 

 Urgent with no apparent choreographed pattern.

 Love that cannot be contained, spilling out, all over the floor. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff.  

He’s getting a complete sensory dose

 of wonderful me as I murmur little things. 

 The eyes, so bright with love light, looking into mine,

 indistinguishable to all appearances from two human lovers. 

 There is nothing he would rather have than what happens

 when we lock our gaze.  But then he looks away; the richness

 of the love too intense for his emotional equipment to handle.

After a bit, he hops up on the bench where I am sitting

and presses the side of his head up against my chest

 just enough for me to feel the deliberate pressure of it. 

Sometimes, I come home, have to the bathroom,

 cold groceries to refrigerate and I ignore his greeting.

He prances for a bit, then goes back to his bed.

                                           My own petty concerns override all that love.

Here is another:

If I had a tail, I’d wag it when I see:

Old folks laughing hard, children laughing hard, anyone laughing hard.

Children running really fast into the outstretched arms of a grandmother.

New babies intently staring at an old face.

Long time couples in animated conversation.

People coming out of a movie in tears.

Dogs wagging their tails.

If I had a tail, I’d hold it between my legs when I see:

Political arguments with no chance of anyone persuading anyone of anything

Children harshly reprimanded over an act of mere curiosity.

Grownups laughing at the embarrassment and shame of young children.

Long time couples profoundly indifferent to each other's company. 

 Facial muscles grown slack from a lack of laughter or sorrow.

Dogs with their tails between their legs.