When I started to talk to myself again
It was a good thing
Because I'm fascinating:
I know what I like to hear and when.
It happened when I got out of bed,
Wobbly from trazodone,
Looking for my phone.
Only the dogs heard what I said.
This brought back the hell of July,
When I hiked every chance
I got, talked to plants
And deer. I didn't want to die.
Silence. Life's an audition, you see.
As I make my bed,
Take another med,
I repeat what I said: "Will it be me?"
This cove and that eucalyptus tree,
Buffaloes, a herd of three,
Help me fit my soliloquy
To the undefeated affect of the sea.
- Rex Wilder