poem: starting pistol breaks the pall

starting pistol breaks the pall
signals “composition time”
syncopation grinds to life
I begin to seek out rhymes

share them in the dark of night
when each day is black and new
build a canon for myself
(nothing else for me to do!)

practice, focus, don’t lose track
leave behind the year to come
live inside the moment, here
ponder work comprised of crumbs

charity begins at home
in this pocked and oily dome
sentiments I mean to share
(those I don’t are also there!)

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