My Outer Body--A Petri Dish for Cancer opus 465
| 17 November 2024 0950 Hours | | Cancer, Medical, Migration, Poetry, Youth |
When I was young, eight decades ago,
Parents simply sent their children out in the sun--
No prep, no concerns, no worries of future consequences.
Most likely today, I suffer from the sun's delayed anger--
Freezing with liquid nitrogen, multiple biopsies,
And surgeries therefrom;
Slow healings being observed to monitor progress,
Combined with concerns of what was next.
Such is much of my last tier of life.
As a result of this torment of lighter skin--
An evolutionary result of necessary vitamin D,
Homo sapiens having migrated, darker skinned, out of Africa--
The trade off was between darker skin and needed vitamin D.
Today, in a park or on the street, meeting blond, hatless children,
I gently remind their parents of the great need for a hat and sunscreen,
So these innocent ones do not go through my plight.
To emphasize the point, I remove my hat, lean over,
And display the bald spot on my crown, formed from serious surgery.
I replace my hat, state I do such because I care for them
And move on under our life-giving sun to my next episode.