Woman at fitness club lying on gurney
in an office behind glass walls,
heart rate 200 and won’t come down.
Ambulance and fire truck outside, lights flashing.

When I drop in my tracks
there will still be work to be done,
stains I haven’t removed,
loose buttons I have not re-sewn.

There will still be mail to be sorted,
bills to be paid, emails and calls returned.
Poems will remain even more unwritten,
perhaps someone else will make the daily bed.

Some things will go undone,
even important things
will be important to no one.
What will remain of all the days’ labors

is the love I have received and given,
what healing was accomplished,
what beauty I made
and what I have already written.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009

From Thrown Again into the Frazzle Machine