A Pome a Day for a Year

The final milestone before the finale
and I sit
shaking my head,
(a little in disbelief),
but a little in pride,
as three hundred
little clumps of
writing have successfully
tumbled from tips of fingers
onto this murky digital book.

Two months to go,
essentially,
before I have completed this
fun and pointed affair with
proseical pomes, and
the sense of satisfaction builds
slowly,
a crescendo at a snails pace.

I can go all the way,
I can slide through
the ribbon on battered knees
(battered from hitting keyboards,
because I type,
not with the knees,
I cannot walk on my hands,)
to accept a winning certificate,
because I have made it this far,
oh yes, oh boy, good lord,
I am encroaching lines a finish!