A heavy pyrexial over coat
Hunches my shoulders

A tight coil
Compresses my forehead

And my mind stutters
Incapable of making
The simplest of decisions.

I slip unnoticed
From being well
To unwell.

The descent is fast and certain

Recovery will be slow

And so
Is the pattern
Of being.

All I yearn for
Is deep refreshing sleep.
I would I could drift
Into oceans of it
Only to return to
A brighter shore

An island bedecked
With glistening fruits
And lush futures.

Instead, the train timetable
Awaits me

And I will iron my shirt
Before bed.