Poetry Collection

The First Poem

To reach
To grasp
To hold
To have
My heart's desire
Shifts with the wind
Still I aspire
Held in my hand
It's mine
Enough in this breath
Tomorrow
I have nothing
Reaching, grasping, holding
Turns to racing, winning, earning
Material turns to dust
Burnt and torn and worn
I turn to ash
I understand
At last