One of my rare serious poems to kick off 2014.
I knead words.
Roll them, bend them, stretch them, mould them,
Break them, mend them, push them, hold them,
Be them – vital, raw – until
They open out and swell and spill
To fill a space once empty, wide,
Much larger than the words inside.
More complex, fuller, richer, rounder,
Brighter, life-filled, stronger, sounder.
I knead words.
Come, will you taste them?
Advertisements
