My son is getting over a cold. Now I’m examining every sneeze, every sniffle, every raw feeling in my throat, hoping I’m not getting it.
Last year while sick, I wrote a poem entitled, “Laryngitis,” which will be in my next book, A Song of Glass: Dreams, Stories, and Poems. This poem explores losing one’s voice in more than one way (something poets struggle with at times).
Laryngitis
What whispers can I conjure
from this throat
attacked from within
by microbes as small as
the lies we tell ourselves
whose inflammatory effect
leaves me raw and doubting
what little voice I have
left
