there's a hole in my bucket list

where things that jigged and jostled
sought most gaily for attention
must have tossed and tumbled out
to land all which-ways on the path
where heels trod hard
and toes scuffed dust
to bake and blind the shiny stuff -
inconsequential pebbles

not so very long ago
my bucket to the brim was filled
with bright and daring 'things to do!'
their rainbowed hues a thing of wonder
splendid ways to spend the days -
a tallying of moments

but now i've come to this conclusion:
time steals too quick into the rough
without the ticking off of lists
without the press of unspent wi-
shes crowdingin andon andup
urging me Get Off Your Butt and
DO SOME THING and DO IT NOW!
before you die, be fore you croak
before you'll get no more bespoke and
natty dreams to nag ... enough!

my bucket list is free, is pending
feather-light just as i like it
sure, could change my mind and plug it
or plant it in the garden, fuck it!