Threshold

There are moments in our lives
Of contrived or manufactured transition
The wedding, the prom, the New Year's party
When things might change forever
Or they might offer more of the same

As I walk down my office stairs
Down to the streets of Brockton
I know I will never return here
The same man in mind or body
That part of me will go no matter

I am already a member
Of a new class of people
Even before I take on
The familiar talismans of disease
Yellow wristbands and shaven heads

Billboards and radio spots cry out
The siren calls of my new brethren
The survivors and the fallen and the families
Like proud, fellow owners
Of a new car I just bought

What I can save of myself
And what is worth saving
What will return to this building
And what must fade away
Is the essence of the battle