Maple Syrup

Morning starts like any other
(sister yelling, baby brother)
token problems, lacking answers.
Lord, I'll wait until this cancer's
radiated from my soul and 
I can breathe, completely whole, and
I don't know when that will happen.
Maple Syrup's just tree sap that's
spilled out of the heart of trees
("I'll bleed out sweetly, too," said she.)