Low Song
By John Wolfe
(Composed and Revised during the October 5, 2010 Managing Projects& Setting Priorities Staff Training Session, 10:00 to 11:30)
In dustdark halls, I feel my days collapse.
Dawn’s bright resolve drifts shuddering to gray.
Morning’s bright yes devolves to dull perhaps.
Minutes,years, months, days, hours drift away.
If I could run – but who can hit top stride
When stones and brush and mud lurk underfoot
To pull you down, to swamp you in a tide
Of meetings,agenda barely understood?
Menus heap up, long days pass without food.
Thick shopping lists, we shuffle forth in rags.
Pale dreams with Bizness Speak are jagged glued.
Words bunch, boil over; slow the hour drags.
You wish for work like music smoothly flowing.
Your corporate jangle pop, a meek cow’s lowing.
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