Ruminating Cough

I think we're all a little sick
and only bed-rest does the trick.
I think we walk to work all day
or ride in on an early train
with arms held low and falling off
we leave behind each piece we've lost.
It's someones job to come and sweep
each piece that leaves us incomplete
and stack them like a tinder pile
to let them dry from sun awhile
and let them lift in smoke to sky
while on the earth days pass us by
as we wear down into our bones
the sickness of the lives we hone.