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  • Gary Hunter

This word Love - Sept. 26, 2020

Whoever originated this word must have held it in their lungs

‘til they ran out of will and air before shouting it in sweet agony

at the face of the person sitting next to them

Or perhaps it slipped out on a warm sunny day

in a still green place from one sprawled out

eyes and arms grasping the bluest sky

Birds could have inspired it a flock of something exploding in beauty flushing a sigh from someone watching which became

a slurred verb then a luscious lisp of a noun

Maybe a murmur fell from the goblet’s edge from one

whose eyes where soaked with a divine vision

and was recorded on papyrus or stone by another

Could it remain a secret for long?

It must have started like a village fire a careless slip of

excitement quickly turning old ways and ideas into piles of ash

because what those lips accidentally spoke

changed every meaning of every breath

that came before and ever after

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