1. Clear scan number three —

does this mean I’m cancer free?

I must wait and see.

2. Joy and gratitude —

these I expected to feel

why am I confused?

3. Why am I doubtful?

a little disappointed?

Was I gearing up?

4. Braced for a big fall,

staging a dramatic end

in my final bow?

5. Sensei has fooled me,

left me hanging in the air,

unsure of the ground,

6. unsure of the path

opening in front of me —

one step at a time.

7. First, I need a break;

I need a drug holiday.

Not that kind, silly.

8. (Although it’s tempting

to imagine where I’d go

and who I’d invite

9. and what drugs we’d bring

and how long we’d be away…

But I’d miss my horse,

10. the garden and trees,

and Henry’s not much for drugs.

I’d miss his heart hugs.)

11. A break from chemo

so I can feel my body

no poison within;

12. a break from poison

in our body politic,

in our waterways;

13. a break from madness

in the human race to kill

Earth, anything green,

14. hummingbirds, flowers,

hopes and dreams for a future

full of tender love.