Sore throat,
septic truck at the neighbor’s,
its pump whirring longer
than I can be gracious about.
Yesterday the electric company
trimming the trees
drove me to do errands
when I should have stayed home.
What is it about being sick
that draws noisy equipment
to your door?
You say you don’t know,
but add to the chaos
with an announcement of
a Sunday night football game,
as a kind of bonus.
I write in my journal
using the words
wish, hope,