This has been an odd summer. I feel like I sort of fell into it in a stupor after the trials of the past year. I’ve been trying to regain my equilibrium, to find some sort of stable ground beneath my feet. One way of doing that has been to push myself to get back to blogging twice a week, which generally means Slice of Life on Tuesday and a Poetry Friday post. Since I’m still a bit off, I rarely have a post ready to go and typically find myself scrambling on Tuesday and Friday mornings. I guess that’s really a long way of saying, “I just wrote this”, which was the only thing one writing instructor I had allowed writers to say before sharing our newly written work, in order to avoid long explanations, apologies for quality, etc.
This week (and maybe last week…and perhaps the week before…) I’ve been
obsessed pre-occupied with my first, much-delayed routine colonoscopy. In fact, I should probably write an apology poem to everyone in my household who has been an unwilling partner on my anxious journey to yesterday’s early morning appointment. Perhaps it was my focus on intestinal issues that prompted this recent notebook entry (which probably shouldn’t see the light of day, but it keeps making me giggle, so I’m sharing it anyway):
a bit like bubbles
caught in my throat
definitely there, but
not quite ready
Each everyday wonder
acts like a gentle nudge
to push that bubble upward
burp it out
©Molly Hogan, draft
Yesterday’s procedure definitely inspired this acrostic, which came to mind as I tried to drift back to sleep this morning:
Congratulations! Your colonoscopy is
Over! Everything is normal. We
Look forward to seeing you in ten years.
Oh, Wait! Your sisters had polyps?
Never mind–see you in five!
©Molly Hogan, draft
Sorry to bombard you with intestinally-inspired poetry, but at least I didn’t add photos!
This week Mary Lee Hahn is hosting Poetry Friday at her blog, A(nother) Year of Reading. She’s sharing a heart-tugging poem inspired by a clunker line from Linda Mitchell’s Third Annual Clunker Exchange.