"Wading neck deep in a swamp, your revolver is neither use nor ornament until you have had time to clean it" Mary H. Kingsley (1897)

Fevered Forms

__________

Fever: my pores weep.

Gentle staff, they comfort me.

I blow hot and cold.

__________

__________

Shapes form, wax then wane.

Thoughts trapped in endless haiku.

Kind hands wipe my brow.

__________

__________

Rigor and pain melt.

Mind at last released from verse.

Shiva’s dance transformed.

__________

__________

__________

Advertisements

3 responses

  1. Lucille

    Poor Jof. Glad you are on the mend. I hope I don’t catch it.

    July 7, 2010 at 4:39 pm

    • It was just a monsoon virus. You’ll be fine if the weather holds!

      July 7, 2010 at 5:05 pm

  2. JGP

    Sorry to hear you’ve been ill. Did it last long?
    Love the wedding video!

    July 9, 2010 at 12:36 am

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s