Prognosis

On Thursday my doctor
with the kind, Kashmiri eyes
told me that the marrow and bones
are eating each other.

The marrow, source of sweetness
and nurturer of blood,
now breeds cancerous cannibals
with no intention of ceasing.

At least the hag who trails me like a shadowPrognosis
and has from the day I was born
now has a name.  They took her picture
in x-ray shadows, marked her signs in blood
then dubbed her, not with a sword
but a long, hollow needle.

Foreknowledge  is a blind
fortuneteller who deals
blank Tarot or pipless
dice that change nothing.

Best guesses say there are still years.
Best guesses…

Poetry Thursday