Hot Water

A bag of hot water,
Is what I take.
To warm me up,
And soothe my ache.

Just where I hurt,
There is a doubt.
For it seems to travel,
Both in and out.

I know it's here,
Within my mind.
And then again,
It's there behind.

It conquers hurt,
This part of me.
Goes up my leg,
And past my knee.

But a bag that's hot,
Is here to stay.
It raises me,
To another day.


E.P. 1908 - 1989