A Short Pause
Sometimes the month brings pain,
that knock between soft walls and flutter in buzzing waves
or strike in cuts sharp and precise with slicing moves.
It brings bellies that heave and slosh,
pushed to the line of hardness with bull headed force
or made jumpy and loose like a shaken jar of beans,
Sometimes the months quietly pass through,
a nothing time
marked only by a slight change in care and routine
The months will always come wearing ways that cannot be fought,
Only tolerated with a hushed insight of the realm it bears and it’s necessary brunt.
Sometimes rest is a welcomed acquaintance.