| I didn't want the daffodils!
|
|
-a gift from the ACS.
|
| I took them only to be polite.
|
| Daffodils are supposed to be a cheerful ray,
|
|
a yellow, delicate creation. |
| I wanted to deny them a place in my hands |
|
as I left the hospital that day.
|
| Why hadn't I given them to the old man |
|
in the room next to mine? |
| Why was I taking them home?
|
| Why didn't I ask my husband to carry them? |
 |
| They loomed large as I sat in the wheelchair
|
|
being pushed through the corridor. |
| I considered dropping them in a wastebasket. |
| Surely they were the label that conveyed |
|
the message |
|
that I had cancer.
|
|
| My anger told me to slam them to the floor |
|
to be crushed under the wheels
|
|
as we moved through the halls. |
|
| At home they sat in a vase. |
| I hated looking at them |
|
and was glad |
|
when they died.
|
