The Woman in the Pink Do-rag

The meeting ended.

Now, outside on more calls, she falls;
stumbles really, says it's the chemo,
kicked her hard this time
her pink do-rag glistening
in Florida morning sun.

It's more fuchsia,
she points, pale, laughs
throws her head back -

just for one day.

"Two-fifty a whack,
a whack, co-pay for damn chemo.
Can't pay it, so I filled out papers."

In the land where
a trillion stars twinkle
and dance across the rippled
breath of mid-days wind:

I am the sea;
just, for one day.

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