I did rest today, nourish. I felt depleted, a salmon after swimming upstream.
I write this poem today, and tonight feel cleansed, and washed a bit in grief.
an unexpected attack.
A year ago today, my hair fell out,
in the shower, in clumps,
gathered in the drain, in my hands.
I knew to prepare, and I wasn't,
as we know there were warnings of attack,
received and ignored.
A friend shaved her head today,
to support a friend going through chemo.
I don’t know why some of us are chosen,
or why some ships sank, and others did not,
but I do know that we float on the love of our friends.
They anchor us here, and lighten our load
with their care.
Today, I rest,
fall asleep on the curl of a dune of sand,
before it breaks.
Gulls fly over me, like foam.