Monday, 18 October 2010

Saying


I cannot calculate
the worth of words.
Cheap babble
slides through me
like slurry.
Little words that
could be gems;
mighty exclamations
lolling as scarecrows.

And what for?
Maybe I'll choose
more carefully,
ration my outpour.
Ah, but then
I fear slowly
slipping into silence
finally aware
there is
nothing
worth





first published at Message In A Bottle Summer 2016
http://www.messageinabottlepoetrymagazine.com/marc-woodward.php