Bunches of Words

Or bunches of Carrots

or patterns of what we say to each other,

dug out of the ground,


What more can we say

about the words between us?

I longed to put words into your mouth

but only, if watching you eat them

at the same time, I could


My words reflect your words,

even though, we use them differently,

and mincing them, and chopping off the ends

like the carrots that grow in my garden,

enrich the soil between us, anew


Take a bite, but not more than you can chew,

and not more than silence can say,

about the language that we share,

grammatically yours,


Wordless, I remain

Yours, alone…..