I was trying to stay phocused while reading this poem, but I kept phorgetting what I had just read. I tried to phorage back through the words phor meaning, but my mind phorbade it. Using phorbearance, and a hard smack to the phorhead, I phorced myself to concentrate. I began to see the phorest through the trees and phormulated the meaning of your poem in my mind. If my interpretation is correct, the poem is simply phor fun. If I am wrong, I ask you to please phorgive me.

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Old bones. Young heart. Focusing on a wide variety of creativity. @markstarlin

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