NOT HERE

A poem came by about an hour ago

It looked pretty good to me -- solemn,

A bit pompous but it knew it was pompous

So that was alright. If just then I'd had some way

To write it down I would have. A bird sang, c, f,

A car shushed by and the poem rode away.

If it hadn't arrived quite complete, if I

Had had to spin and solder it into being

There'd be scraps and I might conjure

It back but it left nothing but that it was here

And then it wasn't