I have walked with words, with Eloquence, long-striding preacher with a gold dusted gospel. Travelled, he guides me gently, confidently, with slender fingers.
I have walked with words, with Sarcasm, high stepping marcher, heel clicker, shin kicker, with a whip in his pocket. Haughty, I have marched with him.
I have walked with words, with Nonsense, trick fantastic jester, hero on an unworld, companion to kings, who with his antics delights me and leaves me at reason's precipice, foolish.
I have walked with words, with Deception, soft-soled charmer, gentleman, connoisseur of style, with a silken cravat. Lithely, he has picked my pocket.
I have walked with words, with Truth, an evanescent stranger, night walker, star watcher. His footsteps echo in my mind.
(anonomyous, published in the Atlantic Monthly)
