by Marc Swan
sweeping the front porch
in early summer
after rain has blown in leaves and debris
and you bang your head
on a metal gong swinging
loosely over the doorstep
Your physician takes x-rays
discovering two small tumors
in the frontal lobe
which is confusing
No headaches no sharp pains
and mental lapses you attribute to age
which leads to a referral
to Sloane-Kettering Cancer Center
an hour drive from Alexandria Bay
to Syracuse then a four-hour bus ride
for three days of tests
in the heart of New York City
including trephining
into the cranium
drawing a small amount of tissue
resulting in a second trip to the City
for further testing and a treatment plan
The short answer—
without that metal gong strike
where would you be now
Marc Swan lives in coastal Maine. Poems recently published or forthcoming in Gargoyle, StepAway Magazine, Chiron Review, Crannóg, among others. His fifth collection, all it would take, was published in 2020 by tall-lighthouse (UK).