keep that soft coat, tight sinew, wet nose away
from the tang of metal
intriguing though it is,
oddity in this once familiar place
breaking through well-
through like pale spring sun
spikes piercing between
smelling not of fear
but of strangeness
this mystery is best left
now would be a good time to carve a new way
through ice-snow deep-snow remnants
through knotted willows, along the blunt ridge
safe hidden routes
March 22, 2008
Brought forward because it just felt right today, and I need to ease the panic that accompanies chronic sleep deprivation. Maybe now I can write.
Here is the original picture I had with the poem.
And one of Mike's ads which actually fits the poem even better.