Some words lisp before you can
even say them: say thistle.
Say chant. Say tuft
lit up by the sun. Fields
spread with a wealth
of accidental sound.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Some words lisp before you can
even say them: say thistle.
Say chant. Say tuft
lit up by the sun. Fields
spread with a wealth
of accidental sound.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
I like this so much.
Me too. Luisa’s poems are so often on the long side, it’s easy to forget she can turn out a mean micropoem, too.
Thanks, Peter and Dave. Once I caught a whiff of how this poem might sound, those sounds pretty quickly drew me in.