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Friday, January 16, 2015

Wolf Watching Lovers

Bloodeyes among the trees.
Waterwood broken,
an open split

of small life.
Steps out of tact,
tied. Tubular

breath that makes
leaves vellum.
And when the two

bend and coo
with a mouth full
of pigeons, you

pace and green
in the dark,
strange with envy.
Leslie Philibert
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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1/19/2021 1:52:36 PM # 1.0.0.404