Those words mean everything to me.
And although I may chose
to never see them again,
I must put them somewhere
gently, like here.
Because they held more than my meaning
for someone one time, someplace besides
in me. I’m sure of it.
Yes,
we get attached to material things
like they really matter.
Why not ethereal things
like they don't matter…
I wish.
Moved or Be Moved,
the wind suggests.
Besides, some key
words will point the way
in arrow-point-narrowly be
led out and in sides of times
whereby those grammatical
laws have all broken English.
These poems that I carry with me
have no cash value.
None may not be heard
aloud, but my change rattles as I walk
through this word-ridden
Life and I donate sense, liberally.
I am never broke
for long
but lighter
without the words.
Artwork by Giovanni Battista Naldini [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
