I’ve walked these hospital halls
and reaped enough frequent flier miles
to travel the world at least once over,
bagged groceries for two households
three hundred miles apart,
worked with the good nurses
and doctors, and still made every
little league game, every gym meet,
every Sunday sermon, deliver every lecture,
even bake brownies for staff meeting,
yet why is it now, as dark descends,
every cell in me surrenders
except for those lodged beneath my skull?
Two different prompts for two different days rolled into one -- 'exhaustion' and 'evening'. It usually is when night falls that I feel the weight of all most acutely.