Admitting Defeat
Joshua Paul Bocher
The smell of moist soil;
The ecstatic chirping of birds;
Sunshine peeking through the clouds.
Me, glancing out a window,
Sitting in a library alone,
Hidden among the stacks:
So many tasks to do,
A month may not be enough;
So many books to read,
A lifetime would not be enough;
I put my head in my arms
And try to take a nap.