Only In Nashville
A Cold vs. Cancer
Unfocused thoughts vacillate between
mucus and tired eyes, looking at the
world wondering what it thinks of my
red nose, slight cough, imperfection of
clogged ears, making sound seem far
away. I try to embrace this present
that aches slightly with longing for
the past or future, far from the now of
Do I have a fever?
Face flushed, obsessed with what ifs.
What if this lasts until Monday?
What if I’m permanently ill?
So many are, in cancer wards reading
words about my cold, laughing.