Radiation Reflection, Day 19

Soft, brown carpet holds forty 40-year-old feet,
eyes wrinkled, charades and old jokes stand.
Scars pink like lotus flowers hide
beneath T-shirts and loose dresses.
The clock ticks fast, heavy -
We attempt to cover the sound
with laughter -
Sadly, the chimes are always louder.

This poem is about a party I had in February at my mom’s house in Utah. Before this trip, I had barely made the decision to move forward with radiation. I got to see a lot of friends and family members that night. Things in our lives change, and it never feels like we have enough time together … the clock is always ticking.