M

I open the car door
so easy to ignore the fact
it would crush on impact

Light sharp as a clap
between outstretched upright palms
of old buildings' backs
history etched in changing line
of Tudor, Georgian, Victorian
always mine

Rustle familiar as cliches
lemon yellow, russet
where Summer leaves her track
under my feet
on the black tarmac I remember
being concrete lumps poking through gravelly sand
and dust as shopping
trolley wheels swivelled
on too big stones

the one in my breast

The sign to the Health Centre
has been overlaid by a beautiful red
graffiti, like another possibility
I would rather follow
but can't read

I've not been through these doors a while
been well
or cured myself with herbs and oils
prefer feeling in control

Still five minutes to go
I keep being early, lately.
The receptionist peers at me
as if to say : You don't look ill
stop malingering

I so hope she's right

They always used to call your name
(louder and louder for the hard of hearing)
but now there's a lit up board
which flashes it instead
with a shrill beep
like you're a barcode going through a till

I feel these seconds
are the last grains of sand
in an egg timer
all my past empty glass
where I did nothing

and the future below
that my turn with the Doctor might tip
and bury me

The afternoon glows
a haitus through windows

someone coughs
I've never felt so alive

Across the way
an old lady the wind might blow away
meets my eyes with a smile
hers' strong as a bridge
many ages, people, laughs
have crossed
and never fallen from

BEEP
I jump
look up
at my name

The Doctor's so kind
fingers cool
"Ah, yes
mastitis
I'm 90\% sure"
and I flop like a puppet
whos strings have been cut
like barbed wire

I put my top back on

I skip round the room
like a trapped butterfly
we smile at each other
a mammogram's mentioned
but I'm not really listening

then I'm free
walk out see a leaf
red as fire, love, life
pick it up
and under the tarmac
I know sand's spread
wide as a beach