January 6, 2024

in transit”

And so I’m on my way to see my sister,
my sister who has cancer, a man says.
The driver nods. And I have cancer myself
you know, the brain, I shouldn’t be alive
today, except — He never gives us any
thing more than we can handle, yes, she knows —
But who decides when too much pain is enough?
I do my time, get out of jail and there
she is, about to die, he says. A quiet
persists too long. She nods. But here you are,
she says, a kindness none of us can manage.
To look another person in the eye
is difficult; to be ignored is brutal.


poem


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