Idle Chatter
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Free script channeling
Poets clamoring
Standing stuttered and stammering
Admitting in unpretentious ways
Defeat for who they are.
Language next to music,
Vision, next to speechless awe,
Poor cousin raged with
Country stench of un-refinement;
Living about them, clouds hung low
In the valley of their death.
Un-proud, Unproven, Untamed, Unopened
Cancelled before commitment could contain;
A wit from out depression,
Or speech that’s lost without a gain.
A candle’s death
By whispered breath proclaimed.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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