I Want to Say
by
Jan Ball
They’re taking four-
year-old Reuben
to the hospital
for his last goodbye
to his mother,
my young friend.
I know about replaced
knees, and a mined abdomen,
but not terminal cancer,
especially in a young woman.
I want to say…
I want to say…
the sun flings silver stars
like lucky dice across
the lake this morning and
popcorn clouds puff high
in the tomorrow sky.
Photo: Harry Rajchgot