By Itself

Thanksgiving alone

might be my fate --

goat yogurt and cranberry

marooned on my plate.

Dandelion tea

might offer a perk . . . . .

No coffee -- but chicory!

Now that would work.

But then, chicory comes

with barley mixed in --

Can someone find me chicory

by itself,

in a tin?

I Worry

Organs ailing within and I worry,

worry about what it all might mean.

Doctor's office makes me sick

between disinfectant and candlewick,

but the pain remains constant and keen.

Writer's Holiday

Unwell, I write,

and write all the more,

distress pouring out of me.

Well, I write,

but in measured dose,

more conscious of heart's lock and key.

Thoughts During an October Illness

In the breathtaking 

sunlight

(so beautiful!)

approaching noon,

eyes cringing from the

brightness,

ears buzzing softly,

head in a misty daze . . .

I had the fervent desire

to cry.

********************************************************

 

Sometimes,

it's just games.

Even a smile 

can lie,

when there is no 

real warmth

behind it.

Sometimes,

for the sake of honesty,

we would do much better

to frown.

*********************************************************

If you have one person

who really cares about you,

consider yourself

rich,

because many people find

caring

to be a burden.

I don't know why.

*****************************************************************

Eyes stiff,
vision wobbly,
inflamed brain nearly pounding out of my skull,
I finally gave up writing
to watch an idiosyncratic romance,
laughing my head off
like a crazy person . . . . .
Maybe tonight I'll watch
the Weather Channel.