Last time I saw you, you taught
me how to cut shelf paper to fit
silverware drawer of the mother
of our husbands.You worked fast,
precisely, with steady nurse's hands.
Couldn't tell you were bald under wig.
You didn't look sick, but we both knew
Fourth chemo had failed. You told me
maybe the fight wasn't to beat cancer
but to beat the need to beat cancer
You told me you were almost ready to
accept God's lessons on God's terms.
I wonder if I've seen you for the last time.