Pre Poem

Being in a poetry marathon is like being the nail.

An overhead hammer is racing toward me

like a clock slowly ticking - about to hit the hour.

Or is it a flower petal that absorbs rays from the sun?
      which is my keyboard

      clacking away

      noisy sun sounds like

      petal to the metal

Or is it a chance to exercise?

     stretch mind muscles to

     throw instead of catch

On the world's stage...

     I'm the understudy

     did break a leg.