About this poem
Yesterday I woke up, feeling pretty good. I was on the tail end of a cold. By last night, I was in terrible pain, half of my head, behind the eyes, my ears, my teeth, my neck (swollen glands), even half of the roof of my mouth screaming in bang your head on the desk because if makes you feel better pain.
So of course, off to the doc for me. Turns out I have a raging sinus infection in half of my head, a (as the doc called it.) “really, really, really, really virulent beasty kind of thing”. Like he had to tell me. He ordered some antibiotic the size of a small automobile and assured me I’d be feeling better in a day or so.
Which left me this morning thinking about things that pass, and things that endure.
As much as I can think with this beasty thing in my head.