Last for Today

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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]

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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.



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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on March 25, 2008 6:36 AM.

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