A Forest Song
Here among the naked pines
wolves move easily and find
stray deer separated from the herd
by fatigue or hunger
High above the silvery moon
whistles a thin and wispy tune
that passes through those naked trees
like icy fang and crispy breeze
To me, poetry is the expression of feelings in words. I try in each poem to find a local habitation for these feelings which makes the experience sensible to the reader, but always the essence of it is in the emotions it contains. There is a constant struggle that goes on while I am writing a poem between the desire to write what I think and to write how I feel. A poem needs some of both, but the best work generates a visceral reaction. Gary