Sick Puppy

I spent two days straight in bed

Sick as a dog, knocking on death’s door

My shotgun trip to New York was the cause for all of this love

My 102 degree fever

My sweats and shivers

My aching muscles and panicked stumbles to the bathroom

I’m just like most men

I don’t handle being sick very well

I live with the constant thoughts that

‘This must be the end’

‘This is how I’m going to go’

The fact is

Even a small cold and case of the flue

Is enough to turn me into a small scared child

Who just curls up in bed

And waits, patiently

For death to come and collect the winnings

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

The Runner

She ran through the forest

With heavy breaths and heart pounding

She ran until she could run no more

She collapsed by the big oak tree

She stared into the distance

And tried harder to distance herself

After a while she stood, than began running again

Never understanding why

Finally, so tired and thirsty

She laid by the river bank

Hoping a little rest would bring her strength

The strength to run again

Deeper into the woods

But the feelings didn’t subside

The images wouldn’t leave

She thought about running forever

Never realizing

She could never outrun


© Dicky J Loweman 2014