Body weather

Image courtesy Microsoft clipart.

Plugged-up nose
predicts a cold front
scratchy throat
a storm warning.

Gusts of sneezes
are soon a blizzard
of blowing spray
100% possibility of precipitation.

Tissues accumulate
in drifts, filling trashcans
calm eye of the story
followed by a rough trough

of sneezes and coughs.
My nose is a windsock
head locked
in a supercell

that weakens to a drizzle
of draining mucus
while Kleenex flurries
continue.

Winds die down at last
fog begins lifting
long-range forecast is hopeful
clear and calm in a week.

© 2015 by V. Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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I wrote this poem last January. Perhaps it’s my new but unwelcome tradition—a New Year cold as I’m again in the grip of this sort of body weather. So I’m staying in and hunkering down. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone!