Shaky sensations and tingly skin.

Linked to Sunday Scribblings


I sat quietly, on the side,
Cross-legged, with the blue-box-T-sheet leaving marks on my skin,
I lay down,
Then sat up,
Fidgety.
Eyes closed, I listened
to the breathing, the unlabored snores:
The slightest hitch - my eyelids frantically peeled back,
Assurance was needed.
I waited, watched the clock,
Imagined the little armies leading the fight,
In their swimmy world of red and white.
I blew on swollen fingertips to calm shaky hands,
The clock watched me.
Suddenly I was scared adolescent, wide-eyed, unsure,
Until the half hour passed, taking the sensation with it,
I was careful adult woman again,
Taking measurements, administering elixirs,
Then sinking back silently to my cool retreat,
Ever-watchful.
Worrisome.
Adolescence was back - delirium memories and bitter tonics,
I swallowed it down, donned patience.
Watched the clock, let the ticking wash over my mind,
Until I was woman again,
Careful, adult,
Daughter.


My father has dengue fever. Please pray.