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March 25, 2008

Last for Today

[untitled]

She spoke and the world melted with her words;
what was green turned brown, and white became clear
streams flowing to the sea. Of what she said,
no sense or meaning. Simple word simply
spoken, no promise, no threat, no intent
beyond the magic of language.

Who knew how powerful a single word?

[cayo hueso]

Posted by Steven Riddle at March 25, 2008 6:36 AM

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Comments

This poem -- perhaps for personal reasons -- entrances more and more with each successive reading. It is somehow fitting that the plural "words" of the first line becomes the singular "word" of the last.

Posted by: dylan at March 30, 2008 1:43 PM

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