Wild Oats
The pear tree tapers in the shape
of a candle-flame, branches narrowing
to a nub of white blossoms.
Lily decides to shred the diaries
she carried home from China,
forget the time we spent apart there
because I broke up with her.
Below the bird bath, a bed of white rock
once held the shape of a swan.
Now the neck shrivels off into the side yard.
The head grows tumescent with clods,
brain tumors, bad memories.
I decide it doesn’t really matter
if I take Pascal’s wager because I’m not Pascal.
The pear tree tapers in the shape of a comet
at the moment of impact,
its tail held out, a knifepoint of blossoms
whereupon the sky impales itself.
Cameron Morse was diagnosed with a glioblastoma in 2014. With a 14.6-month life expectancy, he entered the Creative Writing Program at the University of Missouri–Kansas City and, in 2018, graduated with an M.F.A. His poems have been published in numerous magazines, including New Letters, Bridge Eight, Portland Review and South Dakota Review. His first poetry collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press's 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is Terminal Destination (Spartan Press, 2019). He lives with his pregnant wife Lili and son Theodore in Blue Springs, Missouri, where he serves as poetry editor for Harbor Review. For more information, check out his Facebook page or website.