Thursday, 18 of January of 2018

Lone Wolf Circles – The Job Of Poetry

Let me take you for a moment
from that frantic video you call “reality,”
a contemporary hit co-authored by fear.
Noise and commotion pulled up around you
like the false security
of an electric blanket;
encircling you like covered wagons
against the intense
uncertain potential of nightfall,
of our wild, unchained dreams.

Let me take you for a moment
to the shadow-lined corridors
between Tamarack and Aspen,
down those thorny, berry covered tunnels
that lead to your naked wild soul.
Silence will stalk you there,
coming closer even as you stop to listen.
Another step or two,
and it will reach out and touch you.

There is no winning without such struggle.
There is no freedom without such danger.
Shaggy hair hangs over your eyes here,
as even your tracks are transformed–
larger now, deeper,
with a hint of claws.
It is the job of my poetry
to take you there.

Lone Wolf Circles

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