The poem I'm posting here is a free verse, meaning it has no rhyme, and has odd spacing and no real pattern. It's titled "Finite" and was featured in the 2007 issue of Counterpane, my high school's literary magazine, along with two of my short stories ("Off Again" and "Just Water, Thanks") and my only painting at the time (Symphony). :)

Finite
Christina Tidmore

gold dust
is finite

s l i p p i n g

through our fingers--
over our feet--

as heroes fall, so do we
our legends coated in a fine layer

of this gold

dust.

FIN

Maybe this'll inspire me to not only look for my 2005/6 copy of Counterpane, but also to write again. Lord knows I need some kind of inspiration.