Oh, to Be a Worm

Oh, to be a worm!

To hear Mom say,

“Now children,

            eat your dirt all up!”

Better yet, a snake.

I’d talk in hisses,

nothing but SSSSSes

            and never have to spell!

I could be a wolf.

With a bright full moon,

I’d howl and howl,

            and no one could turn out the light!

If I were a hawk,

I’d float on air

Then dive with a scream

            and shave your hair right off!

by Claire Garden 

"Wordsmithing"

How does a word taste?

Does it crunch or crumble?

Is it fluid enough for poems

Or foundation material to lay essays on

Or the billowy ephemerata of dreams?

Does a word skip over bumpy, gravel roads

Like ‘rambunctious’

Or lie low and take the long view

Like ‘perspective’?

Will it make a point like ‘dot’

Or continue to ‘swiggle’ in mouth and mind?

Poems are craft

But poets are daft.

from Common Ground by Alice Anna Reese