The Season of Lyme: A Borellia Sonnet
|Early spring in prairie; Doran 2011|
The tick, off deer, waiting in the grasses.
And children running down the hill too fast,
Tripping, tumbling down; the pain surpasses.
Picnic on the prairie; hunger is passed.
From where they sit, they know no pain, the bite
On back of knee, the soft skin folds hidden;
The ring of rash, Lyme has come, not in sight.
Children’s blood, to the tick, not forbidden.
The ache has started, the chills, affliction.
Parent wonders and views the swollen knee.
The PA tests titers, gives prescription;
Cefuroxime taken for weeks of three.
When child in woods next, wears long pants and sleeves.
Mom checks limbs after play, prevents, believes.
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