GBM SURVIVORS TO THIRVERS!
She says her husband doesn’t make it to the bathroom.
She says her husband stares at himself in the bathroom
mirror at midnight. When her husband comes back,
he just stands there looking down at the indentation
his body made beside her, observing the vacancy.
Does this mean the tumor’s grown, she asks,
or is it because of the weaning, the gradual reduction
of anti-inflammatories? Out the bay window,
snow is falling. Around the kitchen table,
people chatter about substituting cranberries
for marshmallows in the baked yams, the benefits maple
syrup over brown sugar, and what about fresh green beans
instead of canned? Recipes for stuffed mushrooms,
blending batter for pumpkin pancakes. I sink
into my captain’s chair, cradling coffee in both hands.
Outside the snow shifts like static. Falling all the time.
People chatter about substituting the chain links
for new pickets. Setting the posts in cement.
Getting started Wednesday. Renting the augur, breaking out
the reciprocating saw. People chatter. Snow unloads
more snow out the bay window, more and more
snow out of the sky’s dark wardrobe.