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Naming

6
by Nancy Mairs

    Let me tell you this once

    (I will not be able to say it again):

    I have lost the meaning of words.

    Heavy, they ripped away from the sounds,

    fell into cracked ground. For weeks

    I scratched but what I dug up was

    bicycle spokes, black melon rinds,

    a smashed doll face——it was not meaning.

    I don't know what I am saying.

    I exaggerate. Not everything is gone.

    I still know perfectly what sugar means,

    and pine needle. Laughter is more

    of a problem. And yellow often slides,

    a plate of butter in the sun.

    The meaning of flower has gone entirely;

    so has the meaning of love. Now it is safe

    to say: I love you. Now it is true

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