I fell out of a five year remission,

took my new, daily chemo pills,

added a dash of c=t scan

for good measure, signed on

for a poetry prompt,

which was “trees”, then wrote.



Wading In



Stepping out where the

waters are deep and dark,

I paused, oak tree still.



Knowing which way the

stick floats,

I paused, oak tree still.



The river grew whitecaps,

bred rushing sounds, and

I paused, oak tree still.



My walking stick at the

ready, forked and down,

I paused, oak tree still.





Smelling the blooming of

the trees near the shore,

I paused, oak tree still.