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By John I. Blair

There is no doubt Iím scattered,
My thoughts like autumn leaves
Fluttering from one spot to another,
Too jerky, too distractible,
Dangerous at times
To me and those I love.

My dispositionís so intractable,
What can I do to find my center,
To soothe, to calm?
Poses, prose and prayers do not work,
But when Iím channeling a poem
My mind gets in the groove.

©2003 John I. Blair

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