Glymphatically yours
I like the part about the car wash.
I mean, the cleaning crew in our body
that has the night shift.
We close our eyes, and,
one way or another, quickly or slowly,
we go to sleep.
Out they come to take up their stations
inside the cranium, each knowing her or his territory.
By dawn, all done, neural waste removed,
remains of the day flushed into the circulatory system,
toxins making their way to the liver and thence out to sea,
in a manner of speaking.
Oh, the delicate pumping of cerebral spinal fluid
through the space around our brain cells!
How soothing — all the dregs and bits removed,
fresh-as-daisy cells, clickety-clack, sparkity-spark,
neurons ready to jump when we open our eyes.
Good morning!