Ode to a Hero.

Steel door knobs,
Crying babies,
Wide spaces,
Narrow bedrooms.
Nothing warm about it
Pacing in impatience
Pain takes on a shape
Walks and talks
It has a name.
“Cancer”, they say.
The little child looked up
Isn’t that a sun sign?
If only horoscopes could predict our fate
Life wouldn’t look this way.
She stood there in that wide space
Waited as they called her name
The light dimmed
As she sat us down
Look my loves, this is now.
He paced and cried
The boy said nothing.
So she turned to the little girl and smiled
“It’s alright, I’ll stay awhile.”
Brief she stayed
Brief she went
Painted pain
On a white bed linen.
A face faded
And nothing left.
“Brief” she breath,
Like a smoke that blew
Lingered a moment
And it flew.
Was it her soul?
I don’t know.
But in the moments so brief
I found a hero…
Bloodied and scarred
Battered and bruised
All in a smile
I knew,
Heroes don’t last
Their memories do.

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