I must be ill – I lack the energy
to exercise, the stamina to eat.
I’m guessing it’s a virus – remedy
cannot be bought – I sit, I use the heat
and rest until invasion runs its course –
attempting to support immune response
that yearly acts diminished in its force,
as if my system’s cowed by sickly taunts.
At least I have the luxury to stay
at home and move as seldom as is fit.
There’s nothing I cannot postpone today,
no work or pleasure as appropriate
as curling in a corner, cozy, still,
devoting all today to being ill.