awakening

as you

slip in and out of the greyish

fog

of anesthesia,

blinking

in the light, 

inhaling

the rooms air,

you 

realize

that you're still alive

and half

well,

connected to the tubes

and wires

of the infirmary

and blue

garbed

soldiers

of this bright morning.

you say little,

still feeling the scrapes

of the pipes,

the needle

still in the vein,

naked beneath the thin

throw

away gowns they put

you in.

you're alive again.

so another day alive,

begins.