When night holds syllables in a poem
night hums: oh, this is poem
When night holds syllables in the river
night hums: oh, this is syllables
of the river;
When night holds ocean
night hums: This is the ocean’s
But actually a syllable is always only
and does not belong
to any of these containers
though it creates them.
And so it is with night.
Following Margo over to PoMoSco, day 29.
When You See Water (Alice Walker, from Turning Madness Into Flowers)
I love the last stanza.
I want to have done this one, de. Syllables — brilliant.
Awww. Thank ya, ma’am. 🙂
Very philosophical. Because we could talk about whether syllables exist in that they are constructs of our language and so depend upon our brains for their existence. But night keeps on keeping on without us.