Death is pacing her,
again. She's run hard,
these long years

but Death hasn't broken a sweat.
Death is circling her, again,
nuzzling against her palm.

She's run far, and well;
she lives in the middle
of Death's country, and

she does Death's job.
Her words come from far away.
She says Cancer.

She says Not again.
She says I am not
strong, don't you dare tell me

how strong I am.