Sonorous swilling of syllables
ladled slowly off the tongue
as though the lugubrious pace
would add to the meaning.
I… kissed… her... ear.
It’s the same, at 33 or 78,
for those who remember such record speeds.
It is serious business to write poetry,
to be a maker, and yet,
I prefer those who carry their words lightly,
like hikers bearing a day pack
with just the essentials-food, water, sunscreen,
an extra layer-not weighed down ,
with the equipment of explanations, background information.
Let the poem stand on its own.
Bring it forth with clear voice, enunciate-
and let it go out on its own.
Trust the song will reach someone’s ear and heart.
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