Poetry

Here Comes the Sore Throat

It’s that time of the season: runny nose, coughs, fevers, and sore throats. Here’s a poem to mark this moment we’d rather forget.

Dean Traylor

I.

Here comes the sore throat

and I sound like a goat.

My tongue, too,

feels like a thick coat.

II.

Now the throat itches

from the curse of witches.

Stuffy nose

and nostril twitches.

III.

I know what’ll do to sleep

and that’ll make me weep.

I’ll be coughing and snorting

and failing to count the sheep.

IV.

It’s that time of the year

when the illness comes here.

Just once can the cold

not be so near!

Dean Traylor

© Ds Traylor, 2026. All rights reserved.

New Literary Society

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