Worry some, or winsome?

I feel no (blood) pressure.

No, I am

not dead (yet).

I wait for the machine to be triple checked,

and checked again

and asked

if I feel okay today?

(like always)

I do.

I feel my tail but don't tell 

and my blood is warm to touch.

Good veins, they notice,

they roll over hearing this,

I feel those too as they go back to blue.

Despite the vitals-

I am (still) not lethargic or pelagic,

worrisome or winsome, anemic, 

or academic.

I am like this-

          land locked atop shiny surfaces

even keel

in calm waters

mirror(s) but blind me.

I look across the reflection

and see deeply through

under the surface, currents collecting 

all trace(s) leaden in me

pumping ferrous Iron  

or capitulate by capillaries.

I remain 

calm under the pressure.

Painting by Vasily Polenov, c. 1886 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.