There is something about a silver lining to a cloud.

Or, looking at the geography of her mother’s cancer-

The swirls of pink cells like galaxies,

Keratin Pearls, I’ve learned, and suddenly,

We’re transported into outer space.

Slid right off the earth, now weightless.


I wonder whether it is ever appropriate

To be in awe of the unraveling.

Is there something so wrong, if I would like her to live—

But know that she won’t.


I asked a survivor the other day

When she knew she had beat it. She said

I’ll know I beat it when I die of something else.


Isn’t that the pearl of wisdom, I thought,

Isn’t that just spinning around and around in wisdom.


-Christa Morris