A poem

”It’s too much words”,

It says,

“Too much words.”

“Do you want less?”

I asked,

“Why is there too much words?”

“That’s how I feel - I feel heavy. The words feel heavy.”

“Isn’t the content heavy?…”

I responded, feeling annoyed with the poem.

“Well, yes… no… also. But the words feel heavy.”

“Gotcha. I’ll trim.”

“Trim, trim, what’s a rim of a jar, jar, jar filled with honey and-“

“And just who are you now, Winnie the P-“

“Trim, trim, what’s the rim of a-“

Ok, now you’re just trying to tease m-“

“The rim of a jar, jar, oh where’s the yar-“

“But-“

“Yarn, yarn, where’s the yarn, when it’s grim and when it’s dark-“

“We will sew and sew all night,”

“Nightingale and creamy pies,”

“Cry all day and laugh all night,”

“When’s it wrong and when’s it right,״

“When obscured and when - bright,”

“Sing all day and cry all night.”

“Oh! We made another poem,”

Said I,

Now it’s less heavy?”

“Yes.”

And the morning entered through the window.