Words are Kites for Things


Words chase Things
downhill:
kites attached to strings,
pulled, thin
lines of meaning
clutched
at both ends.

Shouts
pursuing avalanches
of atoms,
repeated down history
until,

boulders
become screams,

trees
ease out from larynxes,

and the sound for Love
erupts in lightness,
drifting on a wind
which wafts
its’ nothingness
into the tiniest of existences.

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9 thoughts on “Words are Kites for Things

  1. love that rather explosion there in the end as the trees ease out the larynxes then the burst forth and then it becomes small again…great crescendo…just thought of the word i was trying to come up with…

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