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Near Miss

Poem by Sandra Sortwell Makau

Car headlights in poem by Sandra sortwell makau

Near Miss

I swerve when I hear the doctor’s words,
the news of her 26 cancerous lymph nodes
crosses the line and veers into my lane
the impact like an oncoming car
fast and out of control.
I reach to protect her from the fatal sound
of impending diagnosis;
the doctor’s face softens,
options replace shock,
a plan formulates.
Her brush with death is rerouted,
we take the detour of
hope
fear
love.

About the Author – Sandra Sortwell Makau

Sandra Sortwell Makau

Sandy Sortwell Makau lives in Chico, California. Her articles and essays have been published by The New York Times Syndicate, and Frommer’s Budget Travel, to name a few. Her poetry has appeared in Multicultural Echoes, New Verse New and read, on air, for NPR during National Poetry Month.

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    I swerve when I hear the doctor’s words, the news of her 26 cancerous lymph nodes crosses the line and veers into my lane the impact like an oncoming car
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