Bev Potter
Jul 31, 2017 · 1 min read

The Airgonaut Says Goodbye

Trounce. Another wonderful word

on a slippery slope. Another word, like obfuscate

with one toe in the grave.

Take bells and angels’ wings:

every time a word is born, another word dies.

There is only so much room in the world for words,

which is why widdershins and whoopee have to go.

I can’t tell you how sanguine I am

knowing that the world will never be overrun by words.

I won’t be crowded by curmudgeons,

never squeezed by geezers.

All that space left for lugubrious, persnickety,

words with big shoulders and pointy elbows.

You don’t see them shedding tears for the airgonaut

who bowed his head in his balloon

and sailed away.

Bev Potter

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I've done...questionable things. @blade_funner