Flummoxed

 

 

In the last few days both my husband Stephen and I have been called to have our Covid vaccine jab, mine a few days before his. The jab takes next to no time but the wait and short standard advisorary speech the person administering the jab must give, and a observed 15 minute rest, all take a little longer.

We had our jabs at different centres, both of which were most efficient and business like but making an effort to create a feel good atmosphere.

Having been told that it was possible to feel mild cold or flu type symptoms, I was relieved to only have a mild headache for a couple of days and a slightly tender upper arm. Stephen who went in, only late yesterday, felt tired and heavy today, with a touch of legs ache.

Our current training programme has been alternate shortish runs in the cold, rain and frost of late and the next day a turbo training session indoors with a longer session at the weekend. This morning at dawn there was thick mist in the woods and we walked instead of running, since Steve was feeling a little bit off colour. As we strode along in the woods, which are always beautiful no matter what the weather, I mentioned to Stephen than it was interesting that if you were to describe this particular day, how many of the words would begin with the letter D: Dreich, dim, dank, dark, dreary, dismal, damp and dull, though not quite dreadful.

I wrote this poem in May 2013 it was one of the first (No. 22), that I wrote at that time having set myself the task of writing a poem a day, whilst in plaster after an accident breaking three bones when out on a run, whilst on holiday in the south of Italy. I was rather bad tempered for a while and set this rule to try and keep my head on straight when I was not able to go out and train as usual. It suits Steve's current feelings, after a few minor changes to suit him. We hope the side effects will be short lived as were mine.      

 

Flummoxed

 

Feeling heavy when he woke that day

A dull headache that hung on and on

No reason he should feel that way

No night before to put blame upon

Energy evaporated ebbing away

 

Dragged himself away from bed

A place he never lingers long in

Moves about with heavier tread

Stabbing, jabbing from an invisible pin

Limbs like logs and legs like lead

 

The morning work was never ending

Irritation seeps down into the core

Head in hand to stop pretending

Wishfully drawn toward the exit door

Deftly his dismal health defending

 

Abandoning work or at least his share

Past trying to soldier on with a smile

Time to go home and too well aware

Flopped out ready to rest a while

Laying limply on a leather lounge chair