And more…

The computer

Computating won’t

Free my heart

From incubating

Thoughts and ruminations

Making me a more or less

Executor to anyone

So less myself

Undone

A poet without poetry

A walker who can’t run

It has begun

The faucet is open

And now the water

Must run

That is how it is with

Poetry written by a

Lover of words

Not for their meaning

Only but for their sound

Completely

Poetry is for this writer

A bridge over troubled

Water