Six months back on chemo and my
limp worsens toward bedtime.
Left hand’s shot, so there goes the cane,
there goes the wheelchair.
What’s it to be then, in the interim?
Scheduled the meeting with my daughter
for the day after tomorrow
Lili determined for her water not to break
before the induction. Lead me.
I don’t know where the hell I’m going.
Induce, conclude, from these particulars.
The kiss of existence is fading
on my forehead, my forever disappearing,
handed over to a final daughter.

Cameron Morse
Cameron and and Gigi (Genevieve Olive Morse, a.k.a., “final daughter”) in the exam room for a bimonthly checkup. 

Cameron Morse is Senior Reviews editor at Harbor Review and the author of eight collections of poetry. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is The Thing Is (Briar Creek Press, 2021). He holds an MFA from the University of Kansas City-Missouri and lives in Independence, Missouri, with his wife Lili and three children. For more information, check out his Facebook page or website.    

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