The clock said two, but it was only one. Sunday 160

Endless twilight

the bed sat up

the man stood down

tubes flushed:

food impasse

across a sterile tabletop

lesions grew

while the clock on the wall

ate the fellow raw.


(This is a Flash Fiction poem in 160 characters, spaces included.  The challenge is hosted by Monkey Man HERE. Try it yourself, and let us both know!
I am still trying to express the struggle of facing cancer and the ravages of chemo and prolonged hospitalization many patients experience.  Pray for this 30 year old.

55 Friday Flash; war

Ask

me to dance.

Ask me tonight,

or else.

If I ask you,

will you stay all night?

Will you ease the darkness

of my fight?

(I must fight

this one alone,

in a war I cannot

hold my own.)




You can dance.

I’m shot down.

IF a wheelchair

brings me home,


cancer’s war

won?

 
(This is a tough week for a 30 year old and his family.  Activities of daily life as a paraplegic are no longer the only options, each day of life is the option, with the third diagnosis in three months of an aggressive cancer.)