In the Flower of My Youth
Marilyn Monroe? No, I didn’t look like that.
I had a slender stalk, yes, but my front was flat.
Only after I had a baby was my chest
plumper. To my delight, I finally had breasts.
Years later, mammogram, call-back, then the answer
I dreaded to hear. It was, they said, breast cancer.
I consulted, tried to find a way to say
no mastectomy for me, no, no way.
When all agreed I must if I wanted to live,
with or without breasts, then I had to give
consent.
No regrets. I talk of flowers, not me,
living flowers I’m glad to be alive to see.