Infection.

Another day sitting on my sofa Looking at the Buddha statue Serenely sitting in the middle Of my mantlepiece. The four walls have enclosed me For the last five days. I watch people outside walking By with a sense of direction In their busy day As I am stuck in solitude. The infection is nearly over but It is the antibiotics that's Making me run a slow race. They render my body as a Dizzy frozen ice sheet, coughing Like a ships fog horn sailing Through the mist of a foggy Brain. Slowly the day melts into Evening and later a welcoming Night. Two days to go.