Port to Port

As you sit with chemo flowing into your port
To send poison to your vena cava
Reading stories you have inspired in me
Our ports become connected, like computers

Our memories have reached out to each other
Digging deep through six, seven, eight foot snow drifts
Of the ’49 super Nebraska snow storm
Uncovering and illuminating stories buried there

Stories buried in my memory because of death
Leaving childhood memories unappreciated
Until you said, “So what’s your story?”
And then the snow melted and my stories returned

Stories of sleds, willow trees, winter storms
Tales of Milk Nickels, basements, Cheerios
Also resurrected names, schools, churches until
The Coleridge of that time reappeared before us

Then, not only my memory, but yours too
Linked as though we were connected port to port
Began to stir and correct and suggest more memories
And the link grew stronger like muscles used again

And there at the bottom of the eight foot snow drift
We found each other, at church, at FOF
Unburdened, linked ready to fight together
The cancer and unhappy memories.

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