Lost Poem by bob barci

Several times that day
he sat on the front porch
wanting to write a few poems.
But, the poems got away,
as they did everyday.
Each and every time he sat there,
he could feel the poems form.
In his mind he knew the words
and had the strongest urge to write them down.
But, for reasons unknown,
he couldn’t seem to write them down.
Perhaps the warmth of the sun made him sleepy.
Perhaps the cool breeze made him lazy.
Something was making him drift away.
Drift into the thoughts of the warmer days ahead.
Watching the constant supply of cars driving by.
Unknown people smiling and saying hello
as they walked by.
The sights and sounds of everyday life
had the better of him.
He knew he wanted to write
but somehow couldn’t.
Thus, the poems he could have written, slipped away.

Sitting at the diningroom table
he tried to get some of the poems back.
No luck.
They were gone.
Lost.
Lost to a bit of spring anticipation.