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I’ve gathered all the papers
I’ve sorted through them twice
I’m pretty sure I have them fixed
The way I’d have them be.

But then the phone will ring, it seems
It’s never near at hand
So I must rise to answer it
Find out who’s calling me.

And then the dog begs to be walked
I have to find my shoes
Clip on her leash and walk outdoors
As Princess sniffs the air.

At last she lets me take her
Back inside to get her snack
I know there’s something I must do
But at this point I don’t care.

I think I must be getting old
My brain’s not quite in gear
As much as I would rather not
I know I’ve got to think

I remember I was working
On some necessary task
Then aimlessly I walk around,
And find dishes in the sink.

I put them in the dishwasher
Decide to eat some lunch
Go upstairs to check my e-mail
And see the papers stacked.

Exactly where I’d left them,
(Before the ringing phone
Had summoned me to rise),
But I was not satisfied.

Their order seemed chaotic now,
What I’d thought was done was not
So again I read and sorted
And got the loose ends tied.

I quickly scanned the checklist
To ensure each base was touched
I’d brook no interruption
I would finish this today.

But then I saw some birds had come
At long last to the feeder
I got my camera focused,
Just as they flew away.

The clock has kept its steady pace
While I’ve been falling behind
Busy, in assorted ways
Yet nothing has been done.

Not even this sad poem will be
A finished work of art
I’ve forgotten what the point is
Or why it was begun.

So there is only one line
That comes to mind right now
A ditty from my childhood
But fitting,  just the same:

     I thought and thought and thought in vain,
     But all I could do was sign my name.

The people of Alabama are  on my mind today, along with thousands of others in surrounding States that were affected by the horrible storms of Wednesday afternoon and night.  I will try to get a hold of a transcript of an NPR interview done with one of the people who was affected by the storm in Tuscaloosa.  If I find it, I will post it tomorrow.  You will be astounded by his wit and spirit! 

Dear and Gentle Readers, I wish you all enough. . .

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