By W.S. Merwin
Poet Laureate
United States of America

While I was taking my walk along the ocean early this morning, someone on NPR recited this poem.  It’s too perfect not to share with you.

Inside this pencil
crouch words that have never been
written
never been spoken
never been taught

they’re hiding

they’re awake in there
dark in the dark
hearing us
but they won’t come out
not for love for time for fire

even when the dark has worn away
they’ll still be there
hiding in the air
multitudes in days to come may walk
through them
breathe them
be none the wiser

what script can it be
that they won’t unroll
in what language
would I recognize it
would I be able to follow it
to make out the real names
of everything

maybe there aren’t
many
it could be there’s only one word
and it’s all we need
it’s here in this pencil
every pencil in the world
is like this

© 2024 Molly-Ann Leikin

songmd@songmd.com