Monday, October 17, 2016


There is enough for me to do
Without my seeking more,
Yet I somehow manage to accrue
Other tasks before
I can clear out those I have
Already undertaken.
Unlike the rising tides that lave
At sands on shores forsaken,
The list of work I get to do
Does not look to recede.
I have more writing, and still through
Many pages to read
I am yet to go. But this
Is what I chose to do,
And this the wonder always is:
I am never through.

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