Cold Season

Cold Season

Half the doors are closed,
pink sticky notes posted “Out sick”,

“Back next week”, “See my boss”,

those who are still here are serenaded
by the guy who keeps coughing
down the hall, and we walk
through a cloud hanging in the
air after the sneezer walks by.
Even the young are affected,
salving their raw skin with
their mother’s lipsavers, too cheap

to buy the softest kleenex,
too inexperienced to have considered
the full consequences of using toilet
paper to wipe their noses,
We are all affected, the healthy ones
hoping to stay healthy a bit longer
and the sick crying of boredom
and fatigue.