Rhythm Exercise 230605c

An ass-about way

of proceeding I guess.

It never was meant

to be this way,

but formally trained seemed

too constrictive. Or perhaps

I wasn’t yet ready

to train myself in

this manner. Somehow, now,

I doubt it matters

any more. Now, all

that matters is that

I produce whatever is

there to produce; let

the future decide if

it merits longevity and

relevance. All too often

you see things lost,

never to return or

be remembered. That part

is sad but also

a duty upon others

to purposefully record

as much of what

was ordinary in life,

and their involvement in

it. For this form

is adept — up to

the task. So do,

and thus be damned.

At least you tried

as you head into

oblivion with open cheer

and bitter heart combined.

A poet’s lot is

always a thankless one.


© 2017 L. Tafa


Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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