A Sentinel

A sentinel upon a wall, Awake within a sleepy town; No fear of weather, foe, or fall, Alert for all that’s going down The cars go by, the people pass: But still, awaiting Fortinbras, The guardian sits by the gates And calmly watches on, and waits

Attention Deficit

Wheree’er she is, she isn’t there; Distracted easily, and fast, Her mind is always off somewhere, Although that, too, will rarely last — “It’s a disorder,” she’s heard said, But more like order in her head: To take each fleeting thought at face, And never stay too long one place