Even
before I begin
I
have a feeling,
just
an inkling of thought
that
the poem I write
today
will
not reach the end
of
this page,
not
for lack of
wanting
length
to
dedicate,
but
merely as
terseness
comes to mind,
I
realize,
word
for word,
line
for line
on
this cool
and
cloudy autumn day,
struggling
as I have,
searching
as I may
simply
air is there,
air
enough to breathe
in
and out
sufficiently,
yet
so few words
have
made
even
less to say.
This
poem then is in praise
of
brevity today.
Chris
Hanch 10-10-17
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