Monday, January 7, 2013

Unexpected gifts from Charleston to Chicago and Chicago to Charleston

Two fights up, two flights down
And I can’t hear.  I have airplane ear.
I have cotton in my ear,
It won’t clear.  I yawn,
but no pop do I hear.

What a nuisance; “I’m so sorry,”
the muffled sympathy roars.
I worry I’ll hear no more
Still dumbfounded
My head is stuffy and sore.

Hark, it seems I’ve lost my voice also.
“What? Come again,” they say,
Inside my head I bray--
But they tell me I speak so softly
It’s as if I’m far away.

And they are right. I feel apart.
There is a moat between us now
With loss of sound I can avow
It is no small thing to have a head full of fog
For a dimness of speech is also endowed.

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