I'm not ready

I wrote a great poem a few nights ago. Only, I was in bed and the poem didn't scream at me very loudly; so I didn't get up to write it down.

This happens to me. The less I write, the less urgently I feel about getting it down. So it swirls around in my head, stopping me up and blocking really good stuff.

I wish I hadn't ignored it. My words are so much better when I don't ignore them.

Tomorrow I'm participating in the Portland to Coast relay race. I'm under-prepared and under-trained. Between vacations, injuries, and an overwhelming fatigue I have not accomplished the things I wished to.

Wish me luck. I think I might need it.