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?