About six months after I finished all of my cancer treatments, I was finally able to write a poem about it. I was at a writers’ conference, and I was given a prompt to write a poem that had a car in it. This is what came out.

Pucker

(originally published in F.I.N.D.I.N.G.S.)

The gods line up
to kiss my left breast.
Divine dimples appear
as I raise my left arm.

A star appears
on my windshield, too,
when a wayward stone
hits me on the expressway,

loud as a gun’s report.
I duck under glass.
I’m wounded again.
Asterisk marks the spot.

I imagine a magical
crystalline fountain
springing out of the ground
and into my chest.

Instead I get
anti-nausea medicines,
a large red syringe
injected so slowly.

My family is grateful
that my car is drivable
and fearful
that I will drive it.

I reassure them
I can still see the road.
Another small stone
and I could be shattered.

Question: Have you ever had difficulty writing about a topic until some time had passed? If so, share it in a comment below.