Near is very far
Space, time,
Dark star.
A black hole
For a wandering soul.

Still
There’s a vastness that appals
Chemotherapy,
White walls.

Scurrying through
The corridors
Of the Christie, this Monday morning
Early,
Meeting Emile, yes, named after Jean Jacque’s eponymous hero.
Married at the weekend, it has spread,
He fears he’ll soon be dead.
His Caribbean lilt
Still
Echoes in my head.

We smile and laugh and joke with the nurses
As they try searching for a vein
In vain.

What else can I do?
Blue’s still
The colour of blue.