on musing the muse

Should you expand the meaning
of a word, a world is what
you’ll get—

O say that the poet 
is he who talks to beauty
and garners a response—

O but then what is poetry,
but the nature of nature,
made like the sound of ice;

how tiny a space it is,
the cavity that is a heart,
yet so spacious,

like a happy home it could be,
filled with smiles and laughter
and new life in store,

or a quiet grave, grave, indeed,
sealed by a word, it gives
and takes.

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