NaPoWriMo #7


It took Christie at 30
I cannot fathom
the light ran out
the mad, passionate light
frizzling, crackling and           out

Sarah’s gone to surgery
I cannot fathom
the knife taking the breast
the maybes of what happens

wear the ribbons
yellow, pink, brown, teal, gold, blue, orange, green
it goes
we pour our money
into ribbons of cancerous vinyl and plastic
does it make sense?
question what it means to be a real woman:
a pink ribbon?
who profits from it?

Not Christie, too cold
Not Sarah, sedated
I am holding my breath
holding hands
do I have to wait for it?
© 2013 Robin A. Sams


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