Every thirty eight seconds
Every thirty eight seconds,
the chemotherapy pump,
cries out,
as another shot,
is fired.
by M. Sakran
Editor’s Note: Though the form of this poem is not strictly haiku, the simple, spare lines carry great weight.
Dear poets and readers, Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY is taking a short hiatus and is closed to submissions until April 22, 2024. —read more—
Every thirty eight seconds
Every thirty eight seconds,
the chemotherapy pump,
cries out,
as another shot,
is fired.
by M. Sakran
Editor’s Note: Though the form of this poem is not strictly haiku, the simple, spare lines carry great weight.
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