First Poem in Ten Years

Watching my daughter watching the sun
makes me reflect on the races I've run.
Hers are still all out in front.
Mine reflect how I was wont.
Out past forty and turning the corner
forget whatever I had planned.

But the waves that grind pink shells to the sand
also carry great ships into land.
Old man in blue trunks with a metal detector
hoping to find some middle class treasure;
we are all here trying to recapture
the first bead on the strand.

They always say you're nothing without your health.
I learned that this year, through their stealth,
breast cancer was hiding
in my body subsiding,
I used to fear really big things.
Now I understand--

the worst things can be held in your hand.