Dodging a bullet,
the PET Scan loomed large…
results both good and bad
“Nothing today
to worry about,”
but tomorrow left unclad
The moment secure,
the future unsure…
prognosis under siege
The lights of the O.R.
calling his name
—with hope the last reprieve
(University Of Pennsylvania: September, 2020)
Truant Verse
Finding fault
with a vagrant poem,
its message left unclear
Falling short,
while aiming long,
to harken every ear
What’s left unsaid,
an unmade bed,
the sheets pulled down and bare
The words still truant,
their search goes on
—whose message all to share
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)