Five days
five migraines.
Perhaps on the sixth day
pain-free
I can write.
I can but
shattered, scattered,
like my thoughts while
pain beats me down.
Pain eats my world
winnows me
to a point.
Somehow the pain
moved
other pain
which I feared immovable.
From this point
I am reborn
again. My relief
makes the world feel new,
but it is all me.
Here at the end
start again.
I'm sorry you went through that--but at least a wonderful poem came out of the pain! Glad you're feeling better.