My ankle was quite swollen,

Bright red and with a rash.

I showed it to a friend of mine,

To first-aid we did dash.

It might be something serious,

Friend Ruthie gravely said.

Brown Recluse or Black Widow,

A devil dressed in red.

So off I went quite dutifully

To give the Doc a call.

I lifted up my pant leg,

To let him view it all.

The Doctor gave me medicine

And sent me home to rest.

His instructions I did follow

When I made my little nest.

With lots of pillows stacked way up;

Another one quite small;

the telephone, some things to do,

I tried to figure all.

I settled in with heels propped high,

My head below the rest.

And stared up at the ceiling,

Quite boring, at its best.

I thought I’d do some tatting,

But the shuttles hit my nose.

Well then, I’ll watch the Telly.

Got stiff-necked in this pose.

So maybe I could crochet,

And honestly, I tried.

But after just a chain or two,

Found myself to be cross-eyed.

Remembered then a brand new book,

About three inches thick.

I hoped that it would hold me down,

But reading made me sick.

I suffered thus for two more days

Until it came my turn

To go back to the Doctor,

My fate from him to learn.

Again I bared my ankle,

This verdict he did give,

Straight-faced, with voice controlled,


May B. Winkel, © 1996

(January 30-February 2)