I am slowly recovering from the shoulder surgery that I had ten days ago. Although I am still unable to use my left arm, I have to say, thanks to narcotic pain potions I am relatively ouch free. Unfortunately the tradeoff for this relief is an equal diminishment of other sensory abilities. (For example, to occupy my time I have read a number of books including a few mysteries. They’ve kept me entertained and as an added bonus, their endings and beginnings have faded so I will be able to enjoy them again at a later date.)

Per doctor’s orders, I have avoided using power tools or driving vehicles. While he did not tell me not to post my blogs (or comment on others), he did warn me of the potential of diminished intelligence in the form of inspired poetic flashes. Last night, after I realized that neither meter nor rhyme is required to make a poem, I penned this.

Ode to a Missing Point.

Dare we set my end upon one spring
Where coils are not deeply covered?
To catch a point of inspired knowledge
No barb for my retention required!

-Clarence Holm