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