A Sneezy, Coughy, Whiny Day

(a symptom, only iamb beats)

 

I talk through a stuffed nose

And eyes that feel the swelling from behind

It is a cold, I guess

Who couldn’t do without?

It forces slowing down, I guess

I read that Alec Guinness liked the kind

That kept the soul in bed

With a good book

(sweet irony that once I read this saw)

 

A challenge breathing clearly

A rheumy kind of sense

A day with some discomfort if

I move around too much

 

So don’t

 

C L Couch

 

 

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