. Bywords Language rang and wedged within our mind. Centuries of words were drawn like swords. A surfeit, rhymes, soliloquies entwined, As singers fingered perfectly rung chords. Linguals clang, the cymbals of the tongue. Vowels, our open mouths fling ahs with ease. Sibilance sees esses struck and sung. Tones lift and fall to bring out melodies. When words cannot be saved, we wave goodbye. They leave us poorer, each a telling dart. Will language languish? Will we let it die? Wishes won't save symbols of our heart. Fight destruction or our voice falls short; Our speech and freedom are on life support. . . Trivialities A drip in the ocean, A star in the sky, A fly in the lotion, The truth in a lie... Dust and water, Earth and light, Son or daughter, Weakness, might... Love and laughter, Day and night, Ever after, Blindness, sight... First or last And all that’s coming, All that’s past, And all hearts drumming... You and me are We together. On this star, We fear the nether. Yes, the curtain Surely closes. Life’s uncertain... Ashes... roses... . . Mike Bryant is a poet and retired plumber living on the Gulf Coast of Texas.