In Line

Faint at the sight of needles
a squeamish gene, I’m sure

Suck it up, adult self admonishes
Child looks away, breath held

Sixty-two years its been thus
too many pokes to count

And now there is new promise
a vaccine to ward off the virus

Hope reduced to one tiny vial
believe me, this sleeve’s rolling up.

(Written for Reena’s Exploration challenge. Image is the prompt.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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