I’m a cancer survivor – for now, anyway.
Every three months, I must have blood drawn,
and my chest scanned, to determine if any
cancer cells migrated, nomads in search
of grass and water. “You’re going to feel a pinch,”
the motherly woman in the lab coat says.
I stare straight ahead to avoid watching her
insert the needle. Holiday decorations are still up
on the wall, although Christmas is long over.
It feels actually more like a sting than a pinch.
Howie Good's newest poetry collection is Frowny Face, a mix of his prose poems and collages from Redhawk Publications. He co-edits the online journal UnLost, dedicated to found poetry.
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