The Call

The telephone call was one
I didn't want to hear
bad news
it is bad
cancer
that word we all fear to hear.

Not me but
my beloved
her cancer
her trial
her torment
her fear
but it may as well be me.

To try to express in poetry
is a failure by definition,
to me
there is no lyricism here
no beauty
just an ugly truth we all know
but hate to consider.

So we live with the shadow
and fight it tooth and nail,
the bastard will win some day
but not now,
not now.