With a nod to superstition
and a slew of statisticians,
I humbly ask permission
that the R word — remission —
be admitted to my mission.
Impossible, you say? Not enough contrition?
Too bold and grand a vision?
Should I settle for submission
to glio docs making all decisions?
Or should I give myself permission
to decide with precision,
to trust my intuition
remain open to revisions,
and enjoy this intermission.
from cancer’s grip a commission
to treasure freedom even more by fishin’
for the endless bounty of love transmissions.