The Word

The word was uttered
A breath of air,
It came short and distant
With bear hardly for care

Time passed
You heard it then
Its sound seemed convenient
For your melo end.

So there you had it
A brush of laughter
Which echoed again
There long and after,

Then the word rung out
Through depths of tongue
'Til its long thread of meaning
Soon, came undone

It held the thimble
Yet the needle still pricked
As the meaning twisted
In crisp tangled bits.

It was hushed and forgotten
Vulgar and untrue
Unfit to be heard
Near 'me' or 'you'

Suddenly it became
Buried in past
It unfurled meanings
One could never grasp

All things have an end
As did the word
Who could have thought
What lacked of motion
Flew like a bird.