Words Are Not Real

Need the imagination to interpret / void
in which to grow / Petri dish of experience
in which to breathe  / and each breath is
a DNA string leading to unpredictable results.

Perhaps that is why the comments you made
last night while sipping wine after
the play / expanded on during the cab ride out
of downtown Toronto / perhaps that is why
the story you heard this morning
over coffee / it reminded you of your
Uncle Frank / your chalk drawings on the driveway
while babysitting your niece / just after
the first five thousand raindrops landed.