Like a child
who tries to catch snow
on the tongue
I try to snare them
before they dissolve
into the fog of my years

Like a child
who chases lightening bugs
that scatter in the dusk,
in twilights of other places
I run after words that vanish
before I can put a lid on the jar

Like a child
who echoes a school yard taunt
the words meaningless
and sharp as long-lost anger
I reach for a smart retort
and blisters burst from my eyes

Like a child
who is lost in a nightmare
that rocks the precipice of reason
turns reality liquid
I want to wake in the comfort of words
chosen as carefully as firewood in winter