I watched your body slowly putrefy as mutated B-cells
Dispersed their alien poison into your pristine ecosystem
Steeped in stress, a life out of your control.
You ignored the initial warnings
Denied the changing climate within
The fire on your skin
The flood across your landscape.
The inescapable truth made you recognize
To mitigate the inflammation of your essence.
Change is impossible with life’s web of responsibility
Locked into a destiny controlled by capital.
Chemo was your solar, wind, and nuclear energy
And I believed it would save you.
We were too late.
The cancer was too strong.
It grew and grew, eating your healthy biome
Killed linked systems
Brought suffering and pain
Consumed you ‘til death.
About the Author
Helen Paterson lives in the Slocan Valley, the unceded territory of the Sinixt, with the draft dodgers, Doukhobors, hippies, yippies, and farmers. She loves her two grown sons, her dog, and her wild friends who share her property, writing in the silence of the dawn and dancing to the blues. She is currently working towards a creative writing diploma at Selkirk College.
