Three Days After Chemo
though I set intention
to prance and play all day
two days after chemo,
energy is not ablaze -
I want to hop back into
bed
and snuggle like a bear -
they pump us up - they tell me that
to get us through two days,
and now, I’m on my own,
with nausea and malaise -
I feel a little pout form a grimace on my face
and I look out on the shortest day
knowing
it’s not looking
for a race -
I draw the stick.
It’s mine to claim.
I take that stick,
get back in bed.
is this year’s noble aim.
It’s groundhog’s day for me,
and I am in my hole.
I’ll come out when I’m ready,
kicking like a mole.
I hoped my written moan,
would help me feel better
yet everything still aches,
is just a little off.
I feel put together by aliens
who’ve never seen a human being -
I know my angels tried,
and I appreciate that
but I think my wings
are hovering
down around my jeans.
Ah, the light
of the shortest day
a change now -
maybe I just need
to sink into this shortest day
and make it even shorter -
wrap it around me
like a pencil stub
and sleep,
knowing lead
is drawing
me
toward
rest,
and fulfilling,
the weight,
of dreams.
Night night - day day - night day - day night - whatever you choose is yours for today - even the sun is resting in its route today, and it still fully burns, and returns.