THOUGHTS FROM THE SICKROOM

One day, a month or so ago, I walked a mile, fairly well, I thought; the next day I had to stop every 10 steps and catch my breath. So, off to the heart specialist, into the hospital in Lexington (St. Joseph’s) with congestive heart failure, and a pacemaker whose battery is going south, has gone south, and that needs an additional wire to the heart. Ouch! It’s still ouch but I am apparently healing.

Okay, on the way to the doctor’s office the other day I saw an image by the side of the road, a starling, probably, on his back with colored feet sticking up. Phone poem?

I shall call the verse something, in a moment or two. Oh well, why not?

Roadkill

Blackbird on the highway

Two feet in the air;

The stillness of his shattered bones

Said he didn’t care.

For now, 80.

Just turn him over, follow the instructions, and you will see what I saw—more or less.

Just turn him over, follow the instructions, and you will see what I saw—more or less.