How I Am

She asks how I am
 And so, how am I?
 My days are the usual days:
 I wake up, I go out -
 time goes by.
 My days are exactly the days
 I have lived since arriving here.
 In fact, how I am is amazed
 how this comforts me year by year;
 I work and I eat,
 life is muffins and jam.
 The house is nice and quiet now...
 That is how I am!
 Five years in these rooms
 reading Hegel and Kant;
 my mind is devoted to thoughts
 on the meaning of life;
 what more could I want?
 So why is it lately I find
 I'm uneasy all through the night?
 And why even now does my skin
 feel explosive as dynamite?
 Why does my heart pound
 like a battering ram?
 How can she ask me how I am?
 How I am is fine!
 Dear Miss March, there is nothing
 dramatic or new to report;
 this will be short.
 Morning and evening I live in my usual way;
 On the day you return, you will see for yourself.
 Tell me, Miss March, are you happy
 so far from the clang and the beat
 of our turbulent street?
 Quite often I think of our days in New York
 Though of course, since you went,
 I have been quite content.
 Ahhhh!! I wake up in the morning
 and all that I hear is the absense of sound!
 Yes! My peace is disturbed
 but the ruckus is me as my thoughts run aground!
 I wanted a life by myself in these rooms,
 And now, all around me another life blooms.
 Who asked her to come and to go
 and to leave me like that?
 And now she expects me to send her a note
 with words, if I spoke, that would stick in my throat!
 Who asked her to change how I live -
 how I think -
 how I am?
 She asks how I am.
 How can I reply? I go through my daily routine:
 I give lessons, I wait -
 time goes by.
 Yet lately I find there is pleasure
 in humming a silly tune.
 And some days I go to the park
 and I sit there all afternoon.
 Some evenings I swear
 I can hear a door slam...
 The house is far too quiet now...
 That is how I am.