Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Valentine to a New (Yellow) Flower

In a way you could say them
Form and sound them out
The childhood of each word
The thing it pointed to
And the idea of yes
And no so simple to know
Something but can’t say it
Even if you have a mouthful
Your learning leaps
And bounds you
Into standing and hard trouble
Decisions over the adequacy
Of your balance
Becoming thematic
The pure music of words
Producing their effect
The music in which you sleep
Adapted to the depths
And heights of hiddenness

No comments: