Poem: Chasing A Dying Breeze

There I am with

my pen in my

hand, with my

ear to the ground,

with my heart on

my sleeve, with my

phone at the ready,

with my computer

always on, with my

words lining up in

little rows, with my

list piling up and up and

spilling over and then over

and again, with my

hopes dashed, with my

hype somehow remaining,

with my spirit waning, with

my eyes dimmed, with my

my rhyme…