A Poem For Sunday

"Cancer" by Stanley Plumly.

An excerpt:

Now to see what wasn’t seen before:

the old loved landscape fading from the window,

the druid soul within the dying tree,

the depth of blue coloring the cornflower,

the birthday-ribbon river of a road,

and the young man who resembles you

opening a door in the half-built house

you helped your father build,

saying, in your voice, come forth.

The full poem is here.