There must be a secret to poetry and prose. What separates one from the other? Is it the rhythm of the spoken word in the quiet of your mind? Is it the rhymes in words that owl-glide and pass side by side by or the unexpected changing flight of birds? Is it the meter, the tap tap tap of time ticking tones across your tongue? Both secrets begin and end with images. Could the secret be the structures, one a house of windows on a hill and the other a drab green tent in Sahara sands? Both secrets wrap words around a grain of truth and hold them tight, awaiting discovery. They have the same secret shell, but different pearls.
For this week's Talk Thursday, but originally posted for Poetry Thursday, February 16, 2007.