Verbosity's Asterisk
By Peter Scott
“You are beautiful
I love you”
He spills like silent tears
Words resounding
Vibrating in disconcerting emptiness
Pausing for due effect
Yet the deer will not answer
Nor move a muscle in reply
A statue of warmth
Stagnantly balanced
Precarious from its odd position
His soul speaks for him
In this moribund clearing
Trees hemming him to his thoughts so deep
Grappling to verbalize this conception
Temporary as it may be
In a mist of silence absolute
And then the foliage resumes
Purring and chirping
Delicious tales of travels in the thicket
Thorn wrought in reflection
Without a care
Reminding him of peaceful senility
While his words vaporize in moments of the past.
