Headcold

I caught a cold while I was in Ireland–maybe I carried it with me from Japan, I don’t know. I wrote it a poem to appease it, which didn’t work very well and since it’s still raging on, I thought I’d share the poem with you all.
Headcold
Crunchy lichen rimmed caves
Conceal a monster or machine
Blasting butter jonquils.
A trumpet in the distance–
Elephants? A flute’s whine?
Dogs bark to be released
Into the wooly grey atmosphere
Of the rosy windowed world.
–KMcQ