Mom serves me chicken noodle soup on the day I stay home from school
Sick.
Sore throat and ginger ale
With a sprinkling of cartoons.
Bugs makes any child forget the itchy throat and runny nose.
I didn’t sign up for life’s marathon.
It’s too early
And I’m too tired.
Warm fuzzy blanket
Soft fluffy pillow
Restless day shuffling on the flower-print couch as it
Scratches my bare arms and legs.
Rough couch rash stubborn like that coyote.
Persistent and irritating.
Mom strolls into the family room
Humming.
Apple juice sloshes with the sway of her walk.
She remembered the straw.
She thinks that tomorrow I’ll feel fine for the real world.
I don’t think I ever will.
Copyright 2006 Cathy Kaplan