Are these my words

or those of someone else

plucked out of the ether

original or borrowed?

Are they a randomly

collected assortment

strung together to form

a coherent mass or

an incoherent mess?

One letter making

such a difference to

our feeling

our understanding

our meaning

our perception

our walking out the door

after studying the room

its contents its colours

its forms and flavours

crossing the threshold

and entering the dawn

of our thoughts

mulling them over

and chewing them through

swallowing their sentiment

or spitting out blemishes

until the twilight brings us

lyrical nourishment.