Voice of the Raiders
Word-hoards fall from mouth-cups
out along roads, out along seas:
faith migrates; sayings run away; verbs escape;
nouns meander as memes in other tongues.
Invaders’ words intrude on empires, spill
cream that soaks our souls, leave
bones of meaning
lying around.
Etymologists
will tour
and devour.
Copyright © Jeanette Swan | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment