Words…for Pete

 

DSC04583Words
are intoxicating.
They make a safe
cobblestone
street
that keeps my feet
dry.
Safe.
They allow me to
justify my thoughts,
to let the feelings mellow out
into words.

I write
story form
with
such
short
lines.
My words power up
and
stand there on my page
in their loopy, speckly,
lined-up
way.
Weaving a net
I can fall on.

Words help me
wrap
everything up
in a neat little
packet
and
process
all the beautiful and terrible
things floating
by
that make perfect sense to me.
Describing my life.

Petunias
and teal seas
and white picket fences
and dark soil
and planting
garlic
at
midnight
in
June
and the
sun on snowy days
and sunsets that bleed
and grass like
a baby’s skin.

The words are
there.
Help me wrap my
mind
around things so twisted
when Pete tries to unveil them for us
and I pull back
the curtain.

Pete
a name;
a stone grey

of a stream-washed
pebble
which
is
Pete,
but not in the way
that grey
indicates
gray  but,  like
words
which
spring to life
in amazing bursts
of
violet
and
peachy-pink, like a rose
I once saw
which didn’t
someone say
“by any other name would smell
as
sweet”
as sweet
as words
or
paradigms
and
sequester
and
syllables that roll of the tongue
like milk and honey
and words
words
words.

DSC01678

words and photo above by e.j.kirk 

3 Responses to Words…for Pete

  1. Such beautiful words ..all flowing together.. that’s beautiful. thank you so much Ella..and thank you so much for sharing Patrice..peace. .Paul

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