Kotodama

Frost
Dawn
Cold walk
Slow morning
A golden sunrise --
Then an unexpected surprise
When images and thoughts about my mother arise;
In particular I can recall the challenging look that would appear in her eyes
When someone would misuse a word my mother would sigh,
Lean forward and then she would try
To explain that words
Are alive,
Like thyme,
Oaks,
Grass, . . .