The word wore away in use
down by the stream of everyone's tongues
and as time whittled over, it no longer meant
the strange, magic tone it once held
in the flash of eyes, and the crooks of minds,
the bent and slip and scope, so easily caught
in pages of books, unspoken and not
the same. We are puzzled and charmed,
and we find
that it settles in us
as it did in them. By context and use,
and we get strange looks
when we speak this way. Something beautiful
has become much harder to mean. A passed-on word
nestled in like an egg
worn smooth in transition from hand
to hand, unknowing
what bird lies within concealed
But it's okay.
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