Your late night text message,

unexpected,

non demanding of return

and the only question

that was there on the ill-lit and cracked slightly screen,

was

How Are You?,

sent in unassuming type, sent with only

the thought that I might reply,

at some point.

How was I? I didn’t know,

I could lie and reply back

that I was on top of the world,

whereas in reality I was flat on my back,

no pillow to soothe my head,

and felt as if the weight of the world was upon me.

I picked my words carefully as not to cause worry

in the kind soul’s mind, agonizing, unbearable

as my heart stopped a thousand times,

I wrote back a while later,

I am fine.

Ian D. Hall 2016