Bed early this evening,
Saturday,
Wife at a sick friend’s,
Kids in London.
I see around me photos
And memorabilia,
Constant reminders
Of where I’ve been
And why.
Her friend is dying of cancer,
Appreciation now embedded
In my blood,
Of what I have
I need to cherish,
Before my time
Arrives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem