Iron-Wolf Poem by Rod M.Peters
Iron-Wolf
His own restlessness leads the fool
To pursue the shadow of a golden bird
Into the mouth of the iron-wolf.
The wolf cares not that his are rusty claws:
Game come galloping of their own accord
Into his strong-gripping iron jaws.
Little do fools think about what calamity
Awaits there at the bottom of an iron belly:
They'd run after the golden glint… to infinity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/18/2024 9:41:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
does this have anything to do with the 1848 California Gold Rush? ? duh! and there is even a Fool's Gold: [from Merriam-Webster, online]: Definition of fool's gold : pyrite; broadly: any of various pyritic minerals resembling gold First Known Use: 1872 bri ;)
Interesting how some readers can read into a poem something that wasn't exactly on the poet's mind but could very well fit into the narrative. California gold rush? Never went through my mind, but you've just added another dimension to this poem. Coming to think of it, this whole business of publishing your poetry turns out to be an interactive thing, doesn't it? You write a poem and it appears to have a finished form, but readers actually expand it! Thanks Bri.