A fleeting thought that seems to fit A mad dash for a scrap of anything to catch before it’s gone That thought , that flash, that glimpse of clarity Could it work? Could it really be? What if? Fingers madly sketch it out, then start to fill it in Yes, this looks real This could work The euphoria kicks in Racing to the lab, down dark streets past closed shops Another hour and they’ll be up Making breakfast while I make history The pieces falling into place, an image in my mind Don’t distract me with hellos I must catch it while there’s time Before a detail slips away Jot and tittle every piece to make the arc complete This story is everything we need. There it is, laid out before me. Mapped and captured, safely stowed On chalkboard, scrap, and manic-sounding voice memos But will it work?
