Words were for whispering small
truths or swollen somethings
with the power of rocks, resting
on sifted oceans--back and forth
in the rocking chair.

Mama's song rings
cracking. Almost
the surface. Barely
a scratch. Lightly
on the record. Hitting repeat.
Falling

just short
of an earthy gesture. A smokey
word and a hallowed cave. Lethargy
drifting in waves.