Just beyond my grasp

I am off to stack plates on shelves when all I want to do is tap keys. It’s better than digging ditches, I guess, and better than cleaning grease-vats or changing shitty sheets and much better than the unemployment line. With dismay I recall a forty year ago brass ring handed to me which I tossed to the future thinking it would land in my hand again someday. I’m still waiting. Actually, not waiting, reaching. I can see it…it is just beyond my fingertips…almost…