a better pen than mine

cutting down on night
to further field
the play of time

light the sun
back
on the verbal's
of my words

I noun the minutes
months
and even years

paragraph my soaking
in the verbed letters
of alphabet

the prose
of someone else's purpose
left behind

I will leave
to a better pen
than mine
the shoulders
of the proper grammars
my ankles
supporting my feet
in the swamp song
of my poem