curves, syllabic rise and fall, ease of melody, wink of i’s, 

these beauties we live among that tantalize the tongue  

are our own making, elating as water’s chill as we rinse 

clay from our hands. Like amulets, each offers its spells, 

tells how time has stretched, scarred, and now lifted it

to the sun for meaning to emanate through its facets, 

the way bliss shines through wrinkled skin, on meeting 

a word so new it teethes, shakes a rattle, takes first steps, 

pronounced and beaming necessary-ness into this world— 

only to say it isn’t possible to write in an everyday way,

but with each letter forward to keep loving words.

(This poem is published in the July, 2023 issue of Pen in Hand, the Journal of the Maryland Writers Association.)