For Tomorrow

This poem is for tomorrow
But I’m writing it today
Because I will be traveling
Both hours and miles away.

I may not have the wherewithal
To transfer thoughts to rhyme
So I’ll compose these verses now
To post another time.

Pretending it’s the future
Is both dangerous and brave;
If tomorrow never comes you waste
The effort that you gave.

To the few who even read this,
You might be a tad confused
Though for yesterday’s idea, I was
(And am!) still most enthused.