Terrible Word
From: Don't Turn Away: poems about breast cancer. PWJ Publishing, 2000.
encontrar mi
The senior nurse stood, solid,
at the foot of my bed.
White hair kinked over white uniform,
ultra bright teeth bared
in a ferocious smile.
She agreed the words were awful,
said in her southern mountain voice,
We've got to meet 'em
and greet 'em;
got to face the facts, girl.
She tweaked my toe
with a hand gentle from too many deaths,
pretended not to see
my watery eyes
and silently left.