Wonder where your breath has gone
when you wake too tired to even sleep—
a ratcheting dissonance in your throat.

Force yourself to take the stairs down
one foot meeting up with the other
each plodding step a clop.

Seated at the kitchen table drenched
in fever, too weak to be aware
slip off the chair to the floor.

What do you imagine all those hours
lying there the kitchen light
shining on your back? —

You’re hiking the Himalayas or the Alps,
shading bright light with your visor?
Bend down to retie your laces.

Swallow to stave your thirst.
After some hours on the floor,
wake to the face of an EMT

taking your pulse. Feel the heat
and the chill. Who is this
gloved angel holding your wrist

like a bride? The ambulance
resembles a Good Humor truck.
You look up and ask for a cone.