Flying Words

My mother used to quote:

Boys flying kites haul in their white-winged birds,
But you can't do that when you're flying words.

The poem is titled “Gossip” and the author is Will Carleton

Some kind caress—some little petting ways—
Commenced a-staying in on rainy days
(I did not see’t so clear then, I’ll allow;
But I can trace it rather acc’rate now);
And Discord, when he once had called and seen us,
Came round quite often, and edged in between us.
One night, I came from work unusual late,
Too hungry and too tired to feel first-rate—
Her supper struck me wrong (though I’ll allow
She hadn’t much to strike with, anyhow);
And when I went to milk the cows, and found
They’d wandered from their usual feeding ground,
And maybe’d left a few long miles behind ’em,
Which I must copy, if I meant to find ’em,
Flash-quick the stay-chains of my temper broke,
And in a trice these hot words I had spoke:
“You ought to ‘ve kept the animals in view,
And drove ’em in; you’d nothing else to do.
The heft of all our life on me must fall;
You just lie round, and let me do it all.”
That speech—it hadn’t been gone a half a minute,
Before I saw the cold black poison in it;
And I’d have given all I had, and more,
To ‘ve only safely got it back in-door.
I’m now what most folks “well-to-do” would call:
I feel to-day as if I’d give it all,
Provided I through fifty years might reach,
And kill and bury that half-minute speech.
Boys flying kites haul in their white-winged birds;
You can’t do that way when you’re flying words.
Things that we think may sometimes fall back dead;
But God himself can’t kill them when they’re said.
She handed back no words, as I could hear;
She didn’t frown—she didn’t shed a tear;
Half proud, half crushed, she stood and looked me o’er,
Like some one she had never seen before!

Will Carleton, “Gossip” (A good source is the University of Michigan Library)

I’ll leave application to the reader.

(Featured image generated by Jetpack AI.)