by Ali Zidel Meyers
I ramble through word dust,
fall apart and fall together.
The letters are brittle twigs.
Ode to Hair
by Karen Sudduth
I’ve worn a wig, I’ve worn a hat,
But now I am all done with that.
My hair’s still short, just like a boy,
But going topless is a joy!
That’s the Way It Was
by John Ward
One morning in the Springtime,
just shortly after eight
The news was on, the coffee hot,
and work would have to wait.
What Does a Woman with Breast Cancer Look Like?
by Ernestine Nicholson
She may be young
She may be old
We’re all the same, I’ve been told
Infusion: The Cure
by Judy Conroy
Infuse the poison so I may live.
So much remains in my soul to give.
by Pat Godfrey McReePat Godfrey McRee is a two-time breast cancer survivor, author of Support to Go, The Unbook for Men & Women with Cancer, and director of the Flying Colors Cancer Network at UT Cancer Institute in Memphis, TN. Read Pat's short poem.
To the Atypical Node on My Thyroid
by Mary Jedlicka Humston
So, you think you can
just come in uninvited
and not be noticed?
by Helene Parris
I crossed a gorge the other day,
through a canyon vague and dark.
The bridge across was made of ropes,
the planks from reeds and bark.