The gray day presses
against
the curved pane of my brow,
A low-pressure ache
in residence grinding
behind
my right eye.
And I —
who love the rain —
feel only the damp,
the permeating chill
that creeps into my being,
that even sleep and a cup
of good, hot tea
cannot
relieve.
— C.Birde
4 Comments
Not that I “like” that you have a migraine, of course.
Maybe acknowledging it through verse will exorcise it…?!
Ouch 🤕
All better now 🙂