Small  Words

small  words

 

that barely leave
lips
these fledglings of

the tongue from tall
nests
fallen whose flesh un-

sung &
not quite feathered dares
that cusp

as if a spring about to
burst
were a word’s first

flurry & flap into
air
not what others

said of green
love
spread to very

edge
of maps lovers
glide

above but unseen
in what
one whirr silently

urged into flight
& on
verge of song

declares

 

 

Mario Petrucci
Illustration Nick Victor


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