Girls' College Support the Cansa Shavathon

Don’t Take Your Hat Off To Me

This poem was written before I was diagnosed with an aggressive basal cell carcinoma in my scalp in 2006. It reflects the arrogance of an adult more bent on breaking the rules than looking after self. My mother died of breast cancer - that could not have been prevented. My brother Paul died of bone cancer – that could not have been prevented. My brother Michael died of colon cancer – that could not have been prevented. My cancer was entirely preventable. All I needed was a hat and some sunscreen. Just as a helmet on a bike is there to save lives, so are our hats. They are not fashion accessories. The sad thing is, that a hat won’t matter until it matters, until the damage has been done.

Your daughters are beautiful. Let’s keep them that way.

Sunscreen

Don't tell me to wear sunscreen,
To crouch cold beneath a pale umbrella
While the sun dances on beaten earth.
Don't tell me to wear sunglasses,
To narrow my vision of heaven
While a van Gogh sky runs over the horizon.
Let my body s ck on the sun
Until I am smolten-golden
Fat as an orange, fine as a seed.
But if there is a factor 30 for the soul,
Give me smotherings of it
To keep burning cold words
And indifferent breezes away from my skin.
Let me die in a hot hug of sun
Above the coolcovered world.

- Ruth Everson