Contemplating pain in Autumn

Is it on fire?
Is it a nauseating ache in the bone?
Is it throbbing, insistent?
Is it sharp? dull? does it rise and peak?
Does it ever diminish?
Does it pound and weather the brain, so all
philosophies become trifling word-games?
Is your mind stripped bare to the aching bone?
When it exhausts you, and you sleep,
do you escape? When you move in your sleep
and pain grabs you, does it grab you 
by the throat? or does it electrify your 
whole body so you become a quivering 
kirlian aura, white and silver with jagged edges?
Do you gasp, or does your mouth fall open
in silence? Does a fury sometimes seize
you? Would you like to smash the platitudes 
of able-bodied well-wishers to smithereens?
When they tell you everything happens 
for a reason, chin up, it will all come right, 
speedy recovery, do you glare or look away?
And once in a while, does a moan turn into
a laugh, and even though the laughing hurts,
is it a relief to laugh and shrug, “It’s only pain”?