I'm Behind

I’m that leaf
still on the tree,
while all the others
have fallen from the branch.
I’m the brown pants
in summer, and
the pink lace in fall.
I’m the before
in the now,
but linger past,
after all.
I’m the heat
in the oven,
after the bread
is baked,
I’m the scratches
On the china,
after the meal is ate.
I’m the prose
without point,
and the false poetry.
I’m the feeling,
that everything,
is getting ahead of me.