The Second 300 Days

    by Julie Ebin

Day 301

Exhaustion is the contagion

ever-present and punishing.

Day 303

I am tethered indoors to quick cycles of what I consume.

Day 308

My forehead, my magical third eye

sucked dry.

Day 329

Warning: I am unfit for uncertainty.

Day 357

If the sky is outside, I do not notice it.

Day 394

On the screen I watch a Polish acrobat

crash through a greenhouse roof,

remove her helmet,

shake out her mane.

Day 417

I wake up, sit on the bedside,

let the prow of my knees venture first;

my toes push off.

Day 486

Remember, hold on to all your small parts:

your blankets,

your trout-shaped pillow.

Day 497

Find a buoy.

Day 523

I combed a small place inside myself for resting,

brushed my teeth trapped tight in their little cage.

Day 576

What to do with my rope?

I long to be a flying daredevil on a trapeze –

not this other kind of hanging on.

© 2012 Julie Ebin

Julie Ebin has recently published poems in Off the Coast, Coin Flip Shuffle, and Getting Bi. She is intrigued by the psychological effects of illness and disability, and has written about coming of age through chronic illness. Julie enjoys writing with children, among other pursuits.