The Butcher Bird*

I call to tell my boss

That I’m too ill to 

Attend work tomorrow

And I’m filled with a deep

Sense of peace.

I know that

For once I’ve made

The right decision.

Sitting up in bed,

Sipping lemon squash,

To fight the upset-tummy-dehydration,

I know that all 

I need to do now

Is meditate, rest and knit,

Have a bath later,

Tomorrow go to the gym,

Then back to the parentals,

Cuddle that fluffy monster,

Rest again.

Mum says I have to stop

Taking the biophosphonates –

“They’re robbing you of what’s left

Of your quality of life,” she says,

Sounding desperate and despairing.
So I won’t take them anymore

And we’ll see what the hospital

Suggest on Thursday.

Later I’ll attempt 

To make some supper:

All I’ve eaten so far today

Is porridge and a protein bar.

Tummy is so bad still.

Enjoying the luxury 

Of fresh, clean sheets,

Stretching out in them,

Cuddling my dragon,

Looking forward to SS: GB tonight

And reading some more of 

A is For Arsenic.


The photos are today’s gym outfit.

Happy Sunday everyone!


*2016.  By S.D. Sykes.  Crime novel set in 14th century England, about the fate of women who survived the Black Death.

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