in illness i am so present
i can hardly imagine
wellness.
i focus on my breathing,
not in the way focus-on-breath
becomes meditation
but in the way that one watches
for signs of deteriorating conditions:
wheezing
asthma...
in illness no plans can be made
can only be unmade,
responsibilites unraveled
until guilt festoons the room,
though everyone says they understand.
don’t ask me to decide anything.
do not seek my wisdom today.
“tapioca pudding & fresh strawberries”
will be my answer to every question.
in illness i am easily tipped over,
too close to all the grief,
crying about my mother.
yet i am absurdly happy
because i washed my hair yesterday
because it spreads out, clean and soft,
on the white pillow around me.
--Zann Carter (04.29.09)
“tapioca pudding & fresh strawberries”
ReplyDeleteIt's the perfect answer to all life's questions.
"because i washed my hair yesterday
because it spreads out, clean and soft,"
such a comforting scent...
Nice piece of poetry, it seems as though you're slowly but surely on the mend.
I hope you're back to normal by day's end.
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