A word does not head out alone.
It is carried about the way something essential,
a blade, say, or a wooden bowl,
is brought from here to there when there is work to be done.
Sometimes, after a long journey ,
it is pressed into a different service.
A tree keeps its record of years
and of the temper of years
well hidden until after death
After the timber has been sawn
rough rings release the song of the place -
droughts, good summers, long frosts -
the way pain and joy unlock in a voice.
