My thanks to everyone again for your good wishes and prayers. Obviously the Mayo assessment is far grimmer than Fargo's, a death sentence. They will do well to keep me going for a year. My brother, a serious Ashtanaga yogin, says my attitude is the best resource I can bring to this, and this new sonnet, my best poem of 2018, perfectly conveys my feelings. Tim
Distance
I like men who have distance in their stare,
seeming sometimes far off as on a hill
scanning horizons where they’re taking care
of herds or fields or planning their next kill,
sailors who venture far from sight of land,
climbers who summit far from the nearest town,
leaving tree line below simply to stand
nearer God’s throne, the sunset on His crown
alpenglow. I have seen clouds of angel wings
lenticular or cumulus sweep peaks
in the high Rockies. For love of wind that rings
in rigging, I’m one who listens as he seeks,
who stands confronted by this cancer scare
like an old trekker greeting a grizzly bear.
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