“No thank you; I’d just rather stay inside,
and hammer out two emails.” I don’t guess
that’s honest but he’s used to veering wide
to ratify his sedentariness.
I’m sorry (no apology implied,
but rather an affectionate distress).
It wasn’t for his company I asked,
but I would love to see his body tasked.
I doubt my days are numbered, even now,
but sometimes I assemble sundry fears –
not catastrophic, but a lowered how,
diminished why, enfeebled what appears.
Fatigue encroaches and a pallor nears,
and though I don’t detect a plummet yet,
it may be life is numbering my years.
I act before I lessen or forget.
I cannot act unless I’m playing me,
but I’ve a friend whose ego is so fair,
she always tries to understand what we
or you are likely to be feeling. There
is yet a third who forms our company,
but doesn’t give emotion any air.
We constitute a monthly lunching set,
and I’ll take notes before we all forget.
For Twenty twenty-four, I spent each day
a little time on Spanish, or a lot.
The next year I decided to make way
to modify food intake. And I got
fair progress in both projects, though I’d say
I need continuance – arrived I’m not.
But I am thinking, looking now to bring
to Twenty twenty-six, my next big thing.
“Another parking ticket?” (her dismay
half-joking as she spotted 2 stores back
the Pay Station ignored when on her way
to lunch). She had collected quite a stack
but paid them all, I thought, before her date
with DMV (last week, at 10 past 2).
“I’ll add them to the rest,” I heard her state.
“The rest?” I asked. “I thought you cleared that slew.”
She paused to set my understanding straight.
“I only paid the tickets that were due.”
Some friends complain of brain fog now and then.
I must admit I don’t know what they mean.
My only reference to that state was when
I long ago gave up the nicotine
(the feeling: dull but brief and in between –
a hard-to-focus view impeding work).
Perhaps it’s luck or gallons of caffeine,
but so far I’m immune to foggy murk.
It isn’t that I’m foggy when I rise,
but something shifts as I get vertical.
In 40 minutes I will organize
intention; then small aims exert their pull.
From out of lax I start to realize
a walk to lunch will suit me to the full,
and so reserve tomorrow to maintain
at home sweet silence for a day of rain.
I haven’t taken many supplements.
I honored definition of the word,
and tried to view with some intelligence
the real, instead of what I broadly heard.
But lately when I check with diligence
my symptoms, I conclude it is absurd
to not attempt increase of energy.
I just subscribed to vitamins for me.
I learned with sadness she’s again unwell.
We wouldn’t meet for lunch or see the play.
I texted three with offers, but could tell
it wasn’t how I wished to spend the day.
I needed quiet, and could not compel
myself to sit all afternoon away
from home, in crowds, with mask and nodding head.
We finally postponed the plan instead.
Like obligated calling that completes
by leaving word, full happy no one speaks,
my offers scored some credit socially.
But we still have the tickets. Fortune treats
us well if she’s recovered in two weeks,
when we can dine and watch the play mask-free.
Whatever the weather I’ll have to adjust.
I’m too lucky here for complaining.
And powerless also; to Nature I’ll trust.
But oh, how I wish it were raining.
 | sputterpub on Master of Destruction |
 | groomie on Master of Destruction |
| sputterpub on Vacuum |
 | Ronald E. Shields on Vacuum |
| sputterpub on About Mom, With Love |
Sputterpub's Blog 