So much goes on without it baffles
every time I begin. I read, I go walking.
I take long routes past the elementary school,
the fidgety, nebulous line at the crosswalk
and the swingsets quaking and singing.
She says, Maybe I am not, in fact, ill. The ends of all her sentences curve upward into questions. We reduce her medication with a warning: Bipolar I is a lifetime diagnosis, though we concede that perhaps Patient could do with a smaller dosage.