My sister Dorothy has been gone several years now. Jan. 7 was her birthday, shared with our youngest brother (exactly a year apart) and our Grandma S. (He died very young, more than a decade ago.) Here is a poem I wrote after a phone call, one of many poems about her.
1/12/19
Really Bad News, She Said
Dorothy calls
Overload
from my latest
cancer diagnosis
and yours—and
you hold the record—
as we travel in parallel
down this potholed clinical road
Different details
the outcome equally
uncontrolled as we
guess which advice
to take and when
Trying to reason and
follow intuition
Some scars visible
some internal
as each day we struggle
What is this for?
Why am I still here?
As damage accumulates
and the rarer good days
even more a gift
One more conversation
speaking the same language
treasuring the time we have
Even occasional laughter
however dark or dry
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2019
From my poetic journal
