An Instant

Music, unknown singer,
in the background. Cat
feeding, then sleeping.
I am bent to breakfast,
praying I don’t throw up
and lose it — my food,
my mood, my memory,
take your pick — and the shades
are yet closed against the day.
I could get painfully up
from the chair and raise them
before sitting again, but
why see the incrementally different
outdoor yard, why look for
a car parked in front of my own —
in fact, why see anything?
My good memory fades
to one second long; my good mood
goes with it; my good food stays down
for another second. The cat
takes another chair and still won’t
look my way. I still don’t know
the radio singer. Open eyes
don’t recognize this day
as being different in any way.
I close them again, focusing
upon the vibrant world
I wish, so desperately,
would appear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T