another poem written

distress is what i feel at the thought
of four poems yet to be written
when it would have been ideal
to have had them done a week ago

but instead i baked cookies, baked cake
stayed up late in front of the fire
with friends and ghost stories
and bread and cheese and laughter

and i cannot say, in retrospect
that i wish any of those things undone
in favor of what i have yet to do
for the soul needs nourishment too

and who knows? maybe something at
that fireside held the key that will
permit me to enter the mysteries
i have yet to unravel and record

so here is another poem written
when i thought all my words were done
though those four others still remain
some sliver of distress is gone