Curl

This will be a very full week: more clients than usual, a day of continuing education, spring allergies, and a spinning head. Today I observe the cat and the curly willow on the front table.

Slowly

Slowly

I learn new pacing.

Tomorrow will be a combination

Of allergies,

A crowd of Christian mental health folk,

A minister or two

And my head,

Prone to spin

These days.

Today I focus

On the curly willow,

On the cat,

Curled in a ball,

Sound asleep,

One of his many

Morning naps.

Slowly

Slowly I learn

New pacing.

Tomorrow I will be present

As I am able

I will curl as necessary

I will green like the willow

When it happens.

Assessment

Assessment always seems to include extra variables.  This time it's allergy season.

In the midst

Of profound allergies

How can I tell

Whether this particular dose

Of antidepressant

Is the right one?

In between sneezes

I assess my mood

Try on difficult conversations.

I watch the birds

In the backyard,

Take in

The pink of the crab apple,

The purple of the redbud,

The trees full leaf already,

Changed from spring

To summer green.

I watch the dandelions,

Remember the surprise goldfinch

Hiding there.

I consider ordering

A floral dress

From the J. Peterman catalog.

Is this dose enough or perhaps

Too much?

A cold that refuses to be called Common

Sometimes an illness claims a life of its own.

Yes this counts

As an end of summer

Cold.

It has me dragging around,

Hoping that a hot shower

Will make a dent.

Yes this counts.

This cold has me by the throat

And nose.

This cold says

I have blamed

Mere allergies

Too long.

Call me by my given name

It says,

Accuracy is paramount.

I am not a simple spell

Of allergies.

I will not be called

“Common.”

I am your End of Summer Cold.

Hot showers be damned.