One of those days
where connections
hang loose and
intentions fly shy
a nothing much
sort of day
If the measure
of a man were lists
of accomplishments
bold-faced
there’d be nothing
much to gauge
But endeavour
distressed exhausts
energy such he rests
in singularity’s shade
too much ado
about nothing
© 27 February 2009, I. D. Carswell
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