If I Were Mute
If I were mute, I’d be all right. Each day
I’d draw some sonnets and when night time came
I’d paint some villanelles. A virelay
Of gouache would capture exclamations. Blame
Might be expressed in couplets tart as Pope’s,
Though mine would be more sculptures, not just words.
Depressed? I’d carve bright poems out of hopes
I’ve sketched; these sestinas would be like birds
In pen and multi-colored inks. Tie-dye
Techniques could be employed when feelings grow
Too complicated and I want to cry
Out words that throat will not allow to flow.
..And when I think of you, I’ll have to sing
….Without a voice and with a wounded wing.