Ingots

Words pour from my lips
like silver spilled from ingots:

Snails, indigo, piazza, penumbra,
catalpa, brittle, galoshes, sestina

goldfinch shadows sunflower
cicada husk crunches on a cat’s tooth.

Words in a voiceless realm
bloom like a million sparklers.

Willow snaps, turtle yawns
night oozes, belt explodes.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s