Tuesday, 4 July 2017

The Curse of the Big "C"

It's the transience of life that's hard
Impermanence, the moving on
You think you hold the winning card
A stable perch to stand upon.

Then the apple cart is all upset
A roll of dice by hand unseen
Dark factor you wished to forget
And something curdles all your cream.

Those earthly riches all at nought
A volte face now obscures your day
Life and health cannot be bought
Certainties may slip away...

Imperceptible at first
No outward sign of deep malaise
Though an inner firework has burst
Engendering a misty haze...

The «cellule folle» as the French say
Hides its progress from our eyes
Hope fights to see the light of day
And the glory of a new sunrise...

(c) Poet in the woods 2017

The Big "C" = cancer.

1 comment:

  1. That is an amazing poem, Sarah. It could win a prize.