Autobiography · Mental Health · Poetry

Whistle

Ruby Pipes
© Photography by Tanya De 2008.
© Photography by Tanya De, 2008.

I’m tired all the time.
But my new medication
must be working,
because today I heard myself
whistling.

I had to stop.
To check to see if
the sound was really
coming out of me.

On my run this morning
I think I was smiling.
Breath heavy,
tufts of clouds like smoke
propelled out of my mouth.
Legs strong, feet steady on
leaf-smattered ground.

Something is shifting.
Sprouting.

I think about calling my NP and
confessing my love to him.
Almost cry over the fact
no one tried this sooner.
Terrified it’s going to
stop working.

But for now,
I’m whistling.

15 thoughts on “Whistle”

  3. First gratitude of the day – that you’re whistling!!! Second gratitude of the day – that I read this in the morning and will be grinning like a Cheshire Cat on my way into work. Hooray!

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