say them to the moon
the sun will do as well in a pinch
if it’s not the weight of summer deep southern august when
he is not respecting personal space
say them to the blooms fading the buds curling
the tops of the garlic scapes nodding in the breeze
speak aloud to the bees on the borage
the wasp even flitting away from the cubby hole in the deck boards
suspect
sing them as well
this is always an option for anyone
if no one else is around they cannot bear witness to your quality of pitch
in verse in melody in english french
jibberish
say then these ruminations of your wise heart
let them lead your way down the silent road