Thursday, October 29, 2009

Illness

I lie still
Woe begotten,grief stricken.
The dust on the window sill
Stays unmoved,almost forgotten.
My eyes flicker;
Trying to grasp the intangible.
I start to bicker;
Attempting to list the interminable.
In all this time
I have danced,lingering on numb toes.
In all this time
I have wilted,confiding in bitter foes.
I conjure rhymes;
My senses flung upon some distant shelf.
My mind mimes
The trappings of my former self.
I wait for the day
When my life will again be trite.
For I cannot stand to sway;
Singular in diminishing might.

P.S. The after effects of the seasonal flu.When one desires to be healthy, it is more comforting to walk with both feet on the ground than with one's head in the sky.

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