searching for words to express the inexpressible

I thumb thru the tissue paper pages
of the weary dictionary,
ignoring its heavy sighs.
searching every entry
and still I can’t find
the noun
the verb
adjective, adverb,
the ancient origin, the mother tongue.

The frayed thesaurus
casts a lazy eye in my direction
hoping to be shed of my mindless wanderings
across its dog eared and tattered pages.

Gathering up the letters,
alphabets in faded fonts,
I shake them
into an old brown paper bag
and carry them to the rubbish bin.

They cannot be found-
no longer seen
or read
or heard-
they have left us here,
stranded with no words,
wringing our hands
at the crash site
in the bombed out street
on the high dry desert
in the wailing of the wind.

Things said and not said and all the Possibilities

tone and pitch
mean everything
the sound of the liquid vowels and
rock hard consonants
that spill on the water way
cascading over the falls
into that pool
that will be memory
of this
just now
the thought
just so
not spoken
in your eyes
blue as the sky
as the wing of a bird
that takes my notice
as you stop to consider
the next words
that will spill from your mouth
that mouth
a hint of a smile
tasting of life and ocean
where the truth will be spoken
or withheld
don’t say a thing