Poetry Friday: In Memory of Ilene Kaminsky
I actually posted this poem last Friday – it was almost like I had a presentiment of losing Ilene – and she commented to thank me for sharing her poem. Reading it again this morning through tears brings her voice and her spirit back to life for me.
I couldn’t imagine living
Without the air I breathe
That used to swell my chest
Where two breasts used to be.
Now with one and a part on the right
And a port inserted in my chest
Swiss cheese in place of what were bones
And pain and fear in place of the rest.
Yes I’d rather imagine this life of mine
Without drug protocols and scans.
I’d rather live more than much less time
And with far less pain and fear.
We are born to die – of course I know it’s true
But it’s quite different if metastatic describes you.
But if everything fell away
And flew into the air right now
And life’s last curtain closed
As I took my last bow
The thing I’d regret to have done without
Is the love I feel right here,
and that I never ever doubt
Because it’s so true and so sincere.