Domestic words <br />are yoked for work. <br />They will not <br />tell you secrets. <br /> <br />The wild breed <br />cannot be tamed. <br />They fly in forests <br />deep within. <br /> <br />But still the mind <br />and they appear. <br />They'll roost <br />right on the branches <br />of a page. <br /> <br />They sit awhile <br />and then fly off. <br />The type becomes <br />bare, winter trees. <br /> <br />But in the season <br />of quiet, they'll come again.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/14-a-meditation-on-words/
