Ode (who knows what number)

I can’t quite catch you

But I can’t ignore the scent

Following you on your twists and turns has my insides bent

I can never quite figure out

Just where I stand

But I’ll crawl on hands and knees in the midst of your quicksand

They say if you stop moving it’s the only way out

But little progress is some progress and I’m determined to make it count

Will I arrive with you in tow

Will you finally take my lead

Or are you my rider and I your bucking steed?