To a New Friend

You asked me
how I am,
and I didn’t tell you.

I didn’t know
how to be succinct
or how much you’d like to know,

though I have no reason to
doubt your sincerity
in asking

except I haven’t been that well:
I’ve been tired and rather ill.
And the doctors mention,

if only to mention,
the timeline for a transplant
and that I’m not getting any younger,

as we say.
And I’m concerned:
I worry

while living through the day,
awake at night,
half-awake the next day.

Maybe you have insight;
or maybe I would simply like—who
am I kidding—cherish

your responses that so far have been
both sympathetic
and intelligent

as an impressive combination,
though there won’t be anything unless
I say something.

C L Couch


Photo by Mel Poole on Unsplash