Therefore I Write

Two hundred fifteen start I this new year

With tally two oh nine for that which passed.

And wonder I how long this run can last,

To lose my muse my ever present fear.

The Nightingale a year ago today

When twenty two began, its bounty hid

And dreams were all that hope would but forbid,

I write now for I must, without delay.

Yet who among the multitudes would care

That words my pen must bleed be heard at all?

But for myself I write to be aware

The feelings of my heart that’s now laid bare

One hundred forty syllables recall

Each block I write doth keep me from despair.

Frank Garnick