So, as a diminutive of sound, a small
something sung or musically spoken,
becoming in time mainly a matter of the noise
it makes, moving south to the north in squalls,
making invisible love corporeal bone
by bone, turn by turn, admitting the sighs,
the blatant woe and reckless considerations
of love's reverence, a makeshift hacksaw
grinding so from sound against the ball
and chain of careful call and rejection,
knowing thoughts without lips sit like arrows
without a bow, aiming for the lightning smile,
angel-grappling, sow-wrangling, slight refrain
all procreant urge and incisive pain.
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1 comment:
i like the Shakespearian diction and tonal values to this one.
Big up!
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