In 2014, Helen had a valve
on the surface of her chest
capping a tube too her aorta,
so poisons could be induced
into her blood stream less
painfully- reducing harm to
body and spirit.
She showed the valve to
anyone interested- talked
lucidly about breast cancer
remissions, progressions
for anyone desiring to live
every day richly, cheerfully
until the last second. She
a model especially to us with
cancer - others expecting it,
an anodyne.
Remorse, resentment
never blotted her face.
She was centered and
free withher time and
spare energies. Always
single-minded about her
art career, competing in
all club events, winning
too many, but when she
won, we won with her.
Her weight sky rocketed
at times but she always
shed the pounds became
thin, essential to longevity.
All know dieting challenges
but who could ever diet
under conditions she faced?
Helen kind, interested
in everything, ignoring
death-special woman-
(not dying) , (suffering)
(the worst hell on earth)
a woman fighting death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem