Thirty days hath September, April, June and November
All the rest have thirty one,
Except for February. Which is weird.
It’s easy to pray against cancer in the beginning,
for, oh, the first decade.
But this February — the shortest month of the year,
the longest of my life — I lost the ability to pray.
On what, in any other month, would have been February 31st,
I went to the grocery store, bought a candle
with a picture of the Virgen de Guadalupe,
saint of the country where my parents honeymooned.