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Sunday, April 19, 2015

National Poetry Month

Poem for the Day



HIGH OCTANE COURAGE

                    At  I-95 Cloverdale exit in Winston-Salem is a Shell station.
                        On the hill above is Bowman Gray School of Medicine.
                        On the third floor are cubicles where cancer patients sit
                        for long hours of chemo as plastic pouches of medicine
                       nerve-wrackingly, slowly drip down long tubes
                       pumping rituxan and doxorubicin and bleomycin
                       into veins breathlessly waiting for a cure.

                        Out the broad expense of windows
is a red sign over the Shell station:
                        GET WELL SOON

                        Wearing a cap autographed by his friends,
                        attached to a tangle of tubes and bags
and plugged into a port, my son, age 22,
looks out the window
toward the Chevy Lumina in the parking lot
breathlessly wishing to be on the road.

Carolyn York

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