Sorry. Been “under the weather.” Lots of doctor’s visit. Tests, tests, tests. I find out Monday what the deal is. Suspect it’s orneriness — or some such thing. I’m about half-way through a poem I’ve written on my iPhone. It starts like this:

“What you say, is what you mean.

How you play, is how you’re seen.

Tiny movements, random thoughts;

What you are, is what you’re not.”