Words Out of Nothing

The sudden spring snow

melts back to mud with
plop and plop somewhere

on the roof. It’s so hard
not to think it’s saying
something, to think

this world so rich
in contradictions,
caressing as it kills,

isn’t mouthing something
more than the words
I put into its mouth.

This world so rich
it creates imagination
then kills it, whispering,

there’s more. More.

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