*

When I saw the X-rays of my father’s cancer – all of us
with him in the room while the surgeon pointed to the dark

smudges that meant maybe three or four more months
of life – I tried to think what those marks looked like,

whether they resembled anything, but no, they remained
what they were – dark patches marring a lit screen, changing

everything.

*

On Saturday (the one we started with) I was walking home
along the waterfront noticing the young women and their beautiful

skin and the way their bodies are so firm and lovely
and I remembered that we used to look like that

though I never gave it much though at the time. It wasn’t until
age started that I realised I too would wrinkle and fold and

mark and that everything would settle down and sure enough
it did. I don’t actually care too much about this (I think because

I associate that youthful time with fragility and unhappiness). Now
I’m prepared to trade ‘beauty’ for a body that’s strong and useful –

6

  

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