From a Distance

Death comes stalking on cancerous feet
taking down lives on the edge
of my awareness.
First in rumors;
the threat to a relative of a friend of a cousin
now eight days in the hospital, or
the newspaper article about someone once known.
It’s over there. I needn’t worry. No reason to be upset.

Closer, creeping along the ground like
toxic gas in a WWII movie,
Death moves in for another kill.
A stranger living three doors down
didn’t make it. Can you
spare some change for the funeral?
I check my loved ones. Do we have our masks in place?

The father of a friend is diagnosed.
But he is old. He is old. Does that really count?
When death comes stalking on cancerous feet,
aren’t the old already
on the battle lines?
As if that could keep the tears of those who love him at bay.

And closer it comes.
A sister in law! But I know her face! I know her voice! Did I not see her
only a few years ago?
Level Four Cancer.
She has no hope.
No one has told her yet.

Things have not been working right
for a while now. Nothing important,
just a blemish on the nose, a cough
that never goes, a strange shape
to the belly.
I’m being paranoid. Stop that!

Still,
I check myself. I wonder
will I be next?
She had no symptoms she cared to share,
but then, neither do I.