I wrote four words today.
Just four.
I bleed my hours into them.
Each syllable
I
weigh.
Like lifting stones from a dry riverbed,
turning each
over
and
over,
until one feels just right
in my hand.
Carefully
carving,
studying
and playing
with each one:
Which catches the light just right?
Which plays well with the others?
What are you trying to tell me?
But mostly,
I discard.
Four words.
All my labor for the day--
Just four words.
It was a good day.
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 6:38 PM UTC
I wrote four words today.
Just four.
I bleed my hours into them.
Each syllable
I
weigh.
Like lifting stones from a dry riverbed,
turning each
over
and
over,
until one feels just right
in my hand.
Carefully
carving,
studying
and playing
with each one:
Which catches the light just right?
Which plays well with the others?
What are you trying to tell me?
But mostly,
I discard.
Four words.
All my labor for the day--
Just four words.
It was a good day.
(Part of the 'Four Words' collection. The other work is called 'I Read Four Words Today')