A Wordsmith's Diet
by Odin Roark

The thirst-hour,
where dark caramel movement
swirls its spell among icy shards,
urging today and yesterday's memories
cut loose their syllabic flotsam,
ink's endless search for shoreline discovery.

Eventually…

Just as Time knows patience well,
so too imagination understands emergence,
remembering vernacular's primitive grunts,
were once but ancient primate sounds,
history’s evolving pitch, accent,
rhythm, and tempo finding purpose.

Duration took form…

Symbols simmered themselves into words
offering snacks for tweets,
sumptuous main courses for tomes,
desserts for works-in-progress,
aperitifs for poetic thought.

Such teasing of creation's palate
only increased the appetite
for lexiconic-feasting.

In time…

A wordsmith’s metaphoric appetite
teaches the reward of fearlessness,
causing the hunted be eaten alive
in order for expression to survive.