of sickness and health and middling

i am living in
short bursts
of edge-less entertainments
like a cloud casting her weight
ground-ward
without choice her lots
cast by matter's chances;
both a pure and confusing
calculus

i am sick in
long drawn periods
such as week's end
that found me
couch-ward like
a potato resting
in the cool ground
waiting for the the rain
and a fast and
purposed pull from
iron tines

and as i sick and health
the days asunder;
i am middling with
the least of these.
as a monk
out of cloister,
as a nun without
habit,
to be sans a right nor a left