At the Periphery

Startled at your approach -
They take flight

And disappear instantly
Into the nearby trees,

Mixing invisibly
With the leaves -

These are the words
that live

At the periphery
Of memory -

The ones
That cannot be seen

The ones you
Will never find

In any poems -
That answer

to no one -
That appear

only briefly
in moments

of inspiration-
And even then

Those who have
Witnessed their migration

Are never certain
Of what they have seen

For even when they fly
They blend into the wind.