Words Poem by Grace Hutton

Words



I watched my lips curve into a bow
I pulled them taut and shot my arrow
My tongue
My words
The thrumming of my larynx
The resonance of my mouth, my cheeks like the skin of a drum
From war to dance
From weapon to drum
From this to that

As all good words must be.

Grace Hutton
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
poem poems Words Lips
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