On Either Side of the Word Lie
The letters that must be taken away
To find the word nestled inside
Or not yet born. Removing those letters,
Deciding how many, which ones,
Is a science that resembles forgetting,
Dismemberment in the service of song.
Finally a new word rises from its shell,
And if it cannot rise it calls out, saying
It’s time to be said, I’ve been here
All along, but you were reading with-
Out speaking, seeking without seeing
A syllable alone is a seed of light.
Plume: Issue #19 January 2013