Mastectomy
A Scot, a niece of friend of mine,
Got cancer back – a stretch of time
Had passed since she had fought that fight;
A question asked – to clear her sight:“My breast contains some problem-cells;
The fight I’m in is going well;
But if I face mastectomy,
The role of breasts – that puzzles me.”She has her blog – like poetry
For me, as I walked patient-ly;
"The Breast Blog In The World“ she quips,
From it her mirth pours from her lips.Her kith and kin have taken up
Her question midst her journey rough:
“What purpose do one’s breasts fulfill?
What loss when gone ’cause we are ill?”Replies have been quite humorous;
Some answers play on “glamorous”;
I’ve pondered what to say to her
From Canada – to Scottish girl.And then from evolution came
My breast reply to puckish game;
I posted on her blog my words,
Replied as I her question heard:“Strategic fat, as we arose
From walking flat on twenty toes;
With heightened sensitivity –
Gods better thought, to me they be –“Much better than ‘tornado’ thought,
(not sure why He had twisters wrought),
Though similar in impact can
Be their effect upon a man.”But what’s the loss? (Mastectomy)
When faced with choice – more life to see?
My thoughts go back pre-age of twelve
To precious kids – when life went well –Before we changed to babies make;
When we were loved just for our sake;
Said mom, “Why fun of sex? In case
We fail to reproduce the race.”Thank God for friends and family,
Who walk with us; assure they see
The person deep within – our soul –
When traits we shed as we grow old.navigation