Icy Week

The coldest week since

We’ve moved to Weidling

The brook frozen up

Siberian cold air swept along

The main road

My legs numbed

A cough shakes my body

The local doc listens to my

Report and issues scripts

Also for Mrs B

Who has too much pain

Walking in these icy conditions.

The bus is late and intends to

Drive off without noticing me

I bang my crutch against the

Metal and swear ostensibly.

As the driver finally noticed me

He stops again and lets me in.

Damn him.

First he was four minutes late

And what’s the hurry now?

The pharmacist at Weidling

Station is inexperienced

Not knowing about the dozing

Albeit I have told her

She wishes to check back with

Doc W’s office

But she never calls me back.

Mrs M does.

All’s well but it’s not well.

This week there’ll be still

Extremely low temperatures

Before the wintry pain will be

Kicked out by an oncoming

New spring.

SUN – where are you?

B says.

Like a delicate plant she cannot

Live without the golden rays

Of life.

I think of Karpathos’ Isle.

 

zoltanzelan       ZJG-POetry’18.

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