Poem: 48 Hours

horse-1

48 Hours

A death.
A birth.
A Baptism.

All part of the last 48 hours.

2 business meetings.
2 church services.
My son on his first major road trip.
Sipping coffee early in the morning with the woman I love.

The brakes went on the truck. It’s in the shop.
The month’s bills got paid.
Everyone in the house has a sore throat and feels like death
that no one bothered to warm over.

The cat slept on my chest last night,
valuing the warmth I was medicating away.
I am living on Doritos
because they are all I can taste.

All in the last 48 hours.

Somehow I started overwhelmed,
but tonight feel sick and sad and pummeled
and still somehow, strong.

About this poem

This actually started out as an essay, and as I cut and cut, edited and edited, I finally realized it’s really a poem.

No, I really don’t know what I am going to end up with when I start.

And that’s OK.

Tom

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