I wanted to write a poem

Though the day's been active
with socializations real and virtual,
neighbourly and international:
though I created art-works
and gave one away,

I wanted to write a poem
before I attempted bed

I'm high or low on THC and opioids;
my head throbs with social strain, confusion
and the insanely persistent pain

Things are wonderful
things are terrible:
tree leaves are sweet and colorful now
just starting to drop

I'm afraid of the doleful cold nights
that are coming,
but then crisp air
is oft fine and reviving