Lonely Truths
It is the first snow, late in October,
a bit early this year, but only by a little.
A beautiful snow, lightly lining the limbs
and decorating the farms you pass in the morning.
It will likely be gone by noon.
The thermometer hovers just above freezing
and the sun is due any time
so you savor the warning as you drive to the doctor.
Another test. A year out from surgery
and we see what the new season portends,
just how healed you are, not just how you feel.
You already know, from the year past
that how you feel has far less to do with it
than you would like.
It is a hard lesson. One learned too often
over the past twenty years, both
how strong, and how wrong your feelings are,
that the reality is measured in numbers
and blood counts and other people’s truths,
and your own emotions are only a lonely truth.
A hard lesson. But well learned
and you are changed by the learning.
lessons, it seems, leave scars and limps.
But still, you can walk.
And this morning, you travel amidst the October snow.
A beautiful moment that slows you down
only in your admiration.
About this poem
It snowed today. Just a little. Early, even for here.
I went in for a blood test. A year out from my cancer surgery. I get the results in a week or so. I feel great.
I am sitting in a diner, listening to people talk politics, both sides of the spectrum being advocated and dismissed with equal vigor. There is a woman in the diner this morning that reminds me of my ex-wife, and that brought to mind what she thinks of me vs what I think of myself vs what most people think of me. A passing thought. No more.
From all that, this poem.
Tom
