Wary Lyric Poem by Hans Ostrom
Wary Lyric
I live in wariness,
which is no place.
It is an atmosphere,
a mental space.
Courtesy suggests I
ought to give an image
to sharpen what I mean.
A coyote on a ridge:
It watches, listens, sniffs.
Only hunger makes it vicious.
Otherwise, it lives by wariness,
is naturally suspicious
and alone, even in company.
Me, too, to some degree.
I live in wariness, a type
of fear. That's me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 11:01:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
