Focus

A fitting poem to have written in February.

Endurance 2/28/2011
Sometimes I watch the busy and
charging legs like windmills
as if the little plant
he carries means to kill
him but he doesn't stop to
set it down or takeabreath
feet like pistons hammer through
the dirt striking hard facing death
with life with
out fear.

I could be that six-legged ant:
footholds firm, winged in my career
across the pebbled weeks and days, plant
in hand with
out fear,
if I tried.


My first attempt at an acrostic poem, written during study hall, became very ironic:

Focus 1/1/2011
For ten seconds, if you could focus
On what you're doing
Could you
Use your time and not
Stop to write a useless, ugly poem.