Low Song
By John Wolfe
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(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.
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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?
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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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