They are just words,
Just people.
This is just a fleeting moment,
One of many
That mark our lives –
We will remember them
Only in the shades
Of memory’s pale fire.
So live in today’s quick-passing minutes.
Just be yourself:
They are your people,
All they want is to hear,
To smile.
So smile, too.
After all, it is just
Lexemes, sentences.
(And spoken language vanishes
In time’s waters):
They are just words.
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This was composed for a friend today, on a special occasion. Congratulations! I’m leaving it exactly as it was written, with no editing. Because they are just words. But oh, what are we without words? What would we be?
(Also, a hat-tip to Mr Nabokov for a few particular borrowed words.)
Prose/day 