Stunned

I’ve come to this sense of being


lopsided


and it’s only the end of autumn,


but already


nothing stuns, nothing astonishes


anymore


now that brilliant sunny October and all its


pattypan squash and copper and tangerine


are gone.


Now I am sunk and sinking deeper


into the gloom of winter; the rain which


I longed for is here but it is also damp


and cold and gray, and while I'm happy


for my olive trees-- for all trees--


I'm sad for me--this atmospheric pressure, this


holiday light


and song to get out and buy and do


and meet,


and in the midst of all, their dialysis


and chemo,


the daily cleansing and curing.


It makes me dizzy, at times I feel


I may


lose consciousness.


And then I stroll on the bay trail late


afternoon and there--


a deep red blush of sunset,


a crescent of silver moon,


and the San Mateo bridge crossing


the bay like a thin, golden hair.


And a rejoicing stirs again in me.