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cries of the wolves
| Open Poetry #47 |
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cries of the wolves |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
She ran to where the wolves had shelter. Where her slow feel of her corner hair Was like the leaves to the days of tomorrow. Her tears were a bit dry But it was nothing Compared to the rain The rain that poured Like the turning of the stones The Shepherds seemed To lose track of their herd With the cry of the wolves That natural yelp For the skies to turn to the softest of blacks With the turn of the trees losing their backs Just so their shade could lower itself To help her see the light To help her see the length of her legs Were as long as the ponds That surrounded the deserts backyards. She was the cry of the wolf The center of nature Where life itself Fell in front of her penny thin socks. |
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| © Copyright 2011 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Whilst I don’t understand several nuances of this (nor do I believe that we readers are meant to understand them easily), I feel them and the essence of the poem in my bones and sense the wolves around me bonding with me and being my blood brothers and sisters. I particularly love the last stanza, and very, very particularly the first two lines of that stanza. Owl |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Owl, Happy you enjoyed. It is with nature, that we find our deepest connection, our deepest thoughts ruminate throughout, where only the sky and wind can see us through. Tomer |
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