• Carly Feinman

Day 63- 11.18.20

A midday shift

All morning

and all afternoon

I whined.

While brewing coffee, feeding the dog,

brushing my teeth, taking calls,

taking notes, taking vitamins—whining

all the while.

Emails, see, they arrive

too quickly and loom too long. Phone calls lurk in the distance then

jump up behind you, then they

go on and on.

My coffee cools to a chill

before ever touching my lips.

And then he says it,

she’s feeling weak,

she’s in pain,

he’s going to try

to catch her

on FaceTime.

Like a hiccup, the brat in my head is

there and then gone;

annoyances and wars alIke

slow to a stop.

Each breath is a gift, I tell myself,

don’t ever forget it—

and I wrote it down,

just now, so I won’t.

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