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1 in 20 in 5

an apple sized cyst dangling

from my liver

picked, 49 staples

graft me together

margins clear

certainty bruised

five years, five percent

survival

a fear tree

quietly takes root

tendrils into future

tissue, the wonderful

unbearable knowing

of a life’s end


on a scrap of white paper 

I pencil a wish to stay

place it in a jar

lid screwed tight, 

and bury it

in back field

each spring, blood work

and scans tick April's calendar

new buds of worry 

push into ventricles, lungs

heart beats faster

breath gets short

at five years, I stand

in the tender field

dig up the jar

hold the wish

in my fist

unfurl my hand


__________________


originally published in Sky Island Journal, Fall 2022

©2025 by Wren Jones.

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