Laughing Through the Shadows
Morning breaks, gentle, uncertain,
and I reach for laughter—old jokes, tacky songs, borrowed lines,
anything to bring the light back to your eyes.
Your smile, the way it sparks
even now, is worth every battle, every stumble.
Coffee spills across the counter,
we shimmy in the kitchen, I deliberately croon off-key,
these moments—tiny rebellions against the shadow
creeping in from the hallway,
cancer looming, silent and heavy.
I make a corny pun, pull a face,
wait for you to crinkle your eyes,
that blooming smile, exquisite, luxurious.
Without guile.
Each chuckle, each shared delight,
pushes the darkness back,
if only for a little while.
Your laughter is precious as the dawn—
fragile, luminous,
the reason I keep trying,
keep turning joy toward you.
Let me be your clown, your fool,
your companion through the final hush.
Laughter is our shield,
and love—
untouchable, unbroken by this illness.
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