Here we are, day two of this
poetry pledge drive, and it's already getting difficult, . . . but I
do have another one for you, inspired, oddly enough, by my husband's recent cold and my recent stomach virus. I know,
how romantic. But, hey, if
Donne can wax poetical (although admittedly in jest) about a flea to justify lustful intentions (see
here), I think I can justify finding inspiration for a love poem in stuffed sinuses and queasy bellies.
In Sickness
When you are sick, you insist
Only fatigue, only claim
A few commonly shared things
As your own – A cup, your lips,
A tissue box – as a way to insulate
Yourself, protecting me,
Buffering me.
When I am sick, you fuss
Over me – a pall washed
Away with loving gestures, exaggerated
As for a child, accepted
As if a child soaking in
Your kindness, making me
Better.
To read other poems or poetry-related posts on this blog, click here.
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