
I’d rather you not tell your partner my negative news.
But I don’t intend to request that you muzzle your speech.
So I guess I’ll keep my own counsel, and play my own blues
so softly no murmurs your brotherly eardrums will reach.

The test results I read have knocked me some.
My posture and my exercise inclined
me to assume, although I know that’s dumb.
But I did not expect the rig to find
hip bones appropriate for flight. I’m numb,
and need some time to set my vision right
(The clues were lurking, after hormones stopped,
and cholecalciferol levels dropped).

I used a bus I rarely ride to get
some miles south and west. The trip was less
than lovely – crowded, noisy – but it let
me off with extra time at the address.
Exploring then, I saw a route and set
my exit plan for shade and lower stress.
Appointment done, I trod that other ground,
and peaceful, vibrant welcome’s what I found.

The birthday gifts two weeks ago, too much
to be acknowledged by a 4-year old
who only longed to play with each, were such
an overload that no adult controlled,
that this one was ignored – it felt no touch,
got set aside. While shapes and colors rolled
and rocked and scattered no one now knows where,
this puppy still transmits its patient stare.

When I said “spastic,” it was my attempt
to flavor a machine that stuttered so
it failed to work. She leapt then to pre-empt
such talk, for she’s a doc who doesn’t know
that literary license might exempt
such vivid use of language. I won’t go
there – it’s not worth hurt feelings to engage.
I’ll find another word to put to page.

I think (and hope) this cold is nearly done.
My nose still runs and I’ve low energy,
but aim to travel west today for fun
with birthday-celebrating family.
And 5 days hence I’ll fly so I can be
with Oregonians I long to kiss.
So, yes, I swabbed for Covid I can’t see;
I’ll read results before I finish this.

Ten years ago, it took a day or two
for head colds to progress from throat to nose.
But owing now to age or maybe new
variety of virus, most a week
of drippy throat besets before I brew
voice-changing clog and heated heavy head.
Right now I feel it all. My point of view
is humble, passive, glad my body chose
today, so when I fly this will be through.

To win the daily challenge solitaire,
I had to make two moves I deemed unwise.
That’s come to be a metaphor for where
direct does not prevail. I think AI’s
grown capable of forecasting all tries
in solo play, but can’t anticipate
when plural play is stupid. That implies
that random could demote or elevate.