Struggle XI

By Andrew R. Duckworth

My mind races
From one corner to the next,
Little rest,
Darting around
Like a trapped rabbit.
How much energy left in those legs
Before that rabbit gets eaten
By the coyote?

Sometimes my mind
Is so clouded in thought
I can’t even remember what
I’m thinking about,
A mind overloaded
By too many requests,
Desperate to make sense of it all,
As the funnel forms.

There are times
When I hate this mind of mine.
It is not particularly
Extraordinary.
It is tiresome.
And yet, even I see the irony
That the very mind that plagues me
Allows me to reflect on it.