I got to the doc. It seems I've had two kinds of infections going on at the same time so started on a new med last night to get rid of the other one. Right now the med has me very swimmy without any relief kicking in yet. I promise I'll stop moaning and groaning on my blog when I feel a little better. In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote. You can see that my state of bodily being was reflected in this one. It's one of my 'Sara' poems, my younger, wilder alter ego. Yep, I took her down in this one.
Sara in the Sky
Sara's tired all the time,
can't run with the boy.
She falls into walls, she's dizzy.
Words drift like snowflakes when he chatters;
she tries hard to catch them.
Her body's a stone, her mind, mud.
The boy pours his own cereal,
heads to school, shirt inside out.
One blue sock. One white one.
Doctors frown, tell her she's crazy.
Friends just want the old Sara,
say it's blocked energy, too little roughage,
maybe suction from a roving Black Hole.
She's glad Norman pays rent, sends money.
Nights she dreams she's dancing again,
skirt filled like a parachute.
The moon paints her hair gold.
Stars etch her face into the sky.