What matters is not the cancer.
Nor is it the bald head,
the misshapen blouse,
the scarred chest,
the ashen skin
that does not seem to fit
the sunken cheeks.
It is how these women laugh and nod
and agree about cancer
as if it is the daily news, a new joke,
an old truth;
how they tilt their head in a way
that says grace,
how they walk with an air that says
I am miraculous,
how their husbands look as if
they might just be overcome with agony
if given just one more moment to watch
as these women bask in life.
~ Rosie Molinary, 2002