Jun 13
Smith
June 13th, 2008 by christopher barnes · No Comments
A way with words.
They changed meaning, slipped
Through his fingers, formed haut relief,
Liquid lips, ripple to ripple.
The way he had with words
Was the way of the sea,
Activated linkage, every dot,
Water, now and then
The brilliance of a fish.
Words he chirped were gases
Leaning on each other, precise angles
Or extremely hard pieces, rock
Reflecting the smallest survey of light
That had swum to seabed
Through rhythms,
A squeeze-box of waves
Gaining import with each new float.
Summer shone to illuminate words
Flashes, gold. Snowflakes fell
On their very sounds to point in all
Directions.
