QUARANTINE LIFE: POETRY PROMPT---MY UVULA

Through the pandemic—not a sniffle, nor a cold

Just random aches that testify, I’m growing old

Woke up this morning, and my uvula was swollen 

Fortunately, my voice had not been stolen 

It’s been a long time since my throat hasn’t felt well

It’s no emergency, as far as I can tell

Lots of tea and salt water gargles did the trick

And Google reassured that I’m not gravely sick

Did I overextend something when I sang?

Perhaps the sharp, hard, crunchy pork rinds I ate, did their thing

All I know, now, is that swallowing’s a breeze

And I did pray, “Please don’t be dreaded Covid, please…”

Did I forget that too cold spaces aren’t my friends?

And yet, I sat beneath the vents until the end

I’d even let the air blow freely, as I drove

And as I slept, my bedroom vent was hardly closed

I’d kept the AC on a cool 73

My uvula made an example out of me

Though I was grateful for the well-conditioned air

I should have moved (like the Clampett’s) away from there

I must promise myself not to do it again

Choked in sleep, by my uvula’s, no way to end