The Big C
Came knocking at my door,
And it did not rap gently.
I saw it walking up the street
And I knew it was coming to my house,
But I pretended it was going to keep
Meandering and choose some other cottage
To disrupt.
I pretended because I did not have time for it,
Because I did not want pitying glances,
Because I did not want my loved ones to be upset
Over me and my visitor,
Because I did not want to die.
It came without meandering at all,
In a very straight determined line, with a
Very firm clipping step,
And it knocked at my door
With no gentleness and with
Incessant persistance.
I ignored it until the holiday
was over.
That was easy to do with all the laughter
In my house, with all the rustling
of brightly colored papers,
With all the scents of promising
dishes, and all the love
Lingering.
They left my house still laughing,
Clutching contents of pretty boxes,
and followed by all the warmth
Of love breezes still clinging.
They didn't even notice
My ugly visitor
Waiting on the porch.
I let them go.
I opened the door again.
I told Big C,
"You can't come in.
You aren't welcome here.
But I can see, you are going to stay a while.
So sit there on my porch,
While I go back inside
And figure out how much of me
I will let you take."
