When night
has fallen
and settled

When I am
sure
my place
is among
the sleeping

I slowly
wake
feeling
a vague sickness

until it is
less vague
and I realise
I have
a fever

This is new

This is cancer

They cut
the cancer
out

but still
my body
must fight

and sometimes
retreat

and sometimes
surrender

to fever

to
vague sickness

to
cancer

my place
among the sleeping
is less sure

my place
among the living
is less sure

and still
the birds
sing to me

of hope

of the coming day

of the
coming tomorrows

“Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul”
– Emily Dickinson

Easter Sunday
Sussex Coast, England