by Signe Ruddy

I am this 68-year old body that grew

gaining size, girth and distance.

A bit oversized I might say.

I carry a  brain so incredibly full

of maybe the fourteenth trillionth

thought. Oh, I don’t know, I lost

count long ago.

I speak daily to the two people I live with

Then to most the people I encounter while

out and about during my daily saunters.

I never do speak to those people who robo call.

I never even thought how many words this might be

that I say daily.

I have (or I take) 60 breaths a minute

and sometimes up to 80.

So, let’s see, if I remember math

I have a minimum of 86,400 breaths each day.

I am a woman with a womb that carried

other humans, birthing them as my heart pumped

pumped and pumped oxygen enriched blood

to every cell of my body (am really uncertain

how many millions of cells in a body)

and to this new human baby too.

So, go figure, why is it some days

I THINK and FEEL something is missing?