Kill the babies
My father said.
By that he meant,
Not the fresh, blush,
Flesh of newborns.
But the torrent
Of exuberant words,
When one
Would
Do.
Why overflow
He said.
When flow,
Alone,
Is good.
Tell that
To a rose in bloom,
Dad,
I said.
Tell that to a sunset.
4 comments:
Love the thought behind this!
Read this, when was it, yesterday? Don't remember, but it has been playing in my head.
I wanted to leave a comment but how can one leave a comment that would do justice to something so absolutely perfect?
It's like offering a missing-one-leg toy soldier or a flower without petals. It doesn't work.
I loved this.
What a lovely comment, Vanessa. Thank you. Thanks, too to Girl on the Front Porch. I'm glad you could see evidence of thought!
Love this one! Reminds me of a line in Anna Quindlen's "One True Thing" where the writer's father has constantly impressed upon her that "less is more" and her mother, who has spent her life giving everything to her family, says, "No. More is more." :)
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