I experience joy as vertigo.

When I exult, it’s like a step was missed

On the staircase that leads away from woe

So, to appease alarm, I’ve a checklist:

Since I’ve food, housing, health, and enough wealth

Since I’m presently spared from bereaving

Nothing is wrong, I reassure myself

Which is novel for one used to grieving.

My delight leaves me walking on thin air

And no ill portents warn not to enthuse

Then I clutch at the railing, get a scare

When I notice I have something to lose.

I’m giddied with glees, of which I’ve my pick

It’s dizzying how well my days are spent

I’m now so happy, I feel vaguely sick

With fear that comes from being so content.

…