Two Gnomes


Two  Gnomes

Two small gnomes
have set up camp
in my lungs.

All night long
they play their squeeze
box, wheeze box concertinas,
never quite in unison.

Sometimes they stamp
their feet and dance.
Their wild night music
catches in my throat
and I cough up
unmusical songs
that splutter and choke.

An east wind blows
outside my window.
It whistles and groans
as it herds the stars
from left to right.

The stars chase
the westering moon.
The planets dance
to the rhythms
of the accordion music
playing in my chest.

Comment: Raw poem, raw sore throat. I wish this flu on nobody. And yes, I had my flu shot, so the flu bug probably mutated and created a version just for me. This is also an “I need sympathy poem” so, moan and groan … splutter and cough, breakfast’s ready and I’m off.

25 thoughts on “Two Gnomes

  1. Heal quickly, Roger. My oldest just went through a round of this before he got home. Fortunately it was BEFORE…
    Miserable, but I loved your take on it. I’ll save that one for the next time one of my children is ill.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So sorry to hear this, R. In fact, the ‘flu did indeed mutate, leaving us vulnerable. Lay low, find ginger ale ( wish I was there to deliver it) and rest. That’s it, that’s all.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I was wondering if it was the same variety you had. “It’s hard to rest, with two small gnomes, dancing in your chest” … and noisy little people they are too! Life’s improving though … I can at least move today ….


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