The Sound Of The Rain

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First it was the insurance company
to say Beth has been approved
for the latest chemotherapy treatment.
and could we provide an alternate contact number.

Then it was Ken to exclaim
how fucked up it is
that in this fucked-up world
of all the people
to get cancer
it is beautiful Beth.

I hang up the phone,
gaze out at the birds in the trees.
It has been five days
since we sat in the waiting room
and the doctors summoned us
to the office.

It has been five days
since we looked up at the ceiling
and took a deep breath
and then the doctor said the name.

Tumor in the left node,
tumor in the right node,

cancer,
cancer,

since that time
it is as if
we have been
married
to the cancer:

doctors,
insurance,
appointments,
lab tests,

THE SOUND OF THE RAIN -BUTTERS p. 2 of 3

l still can't
believe the
utter sweep
and whack of it,

how it seems like forever
since we heard the word,
and yet, somehow,
only five days.

I walk through the house,
the radio resonates,
her records, my books,
our life together, the good vibration.
.
As I walk through the bedroom
I wonder what happens next,
glint of our wedding picture stationed on the bureau,
swirl of our son's toys strewn on the bed.

Easier to focus on simpler tasks:
calling back the nurse who at long last called us,
vacuuming the floor
as if nothing happened.

Easier than focusing
on the wreckage of dreams,
the sound of bills falling
through the hole in our safety net,

the sun dappling trees
as the doctor says the C word,
the birds, the cars,
the look on her face.

If the phone would stop ringing,
maybe I could check in
with my helplessness.

I feel like I have been punched
in the stomach.
I feel like I am floating
in outer space.

THE SOUND OF THE RAIN - BUTTERS - P. 3 of 3

Rod calls to ask how we are eating,
of all things.
Cancer is not a sprint,
it is a marathon, he tells me.

This is just the beginning.
You two will need all your strength
for what lies up ahead.

As I hang up the phone,
I make a note
to drink less coffee,
cook more vegetables,

meditate more,
swing off the deep end less.

It really is true,
I think to myself later,
gazing out the window,
two robins perched
on the branch of the sycamore tree.

No matter what
attitude we strike,
we really don't know
what lies up ahead.

Later,
in the shower,
I finally become empty enough
to cry for her,
the sound of the rain.