When Capturing Wolves
When capturing wolves Begin with the eyes Says Bonnie Marris A painter of wild things. “They hear voices older than time,” Chants Cheryl Wheeler Tuning to wolf-calls Ancient and dire. Wolves hold their secrets Like precious bones In iron jaws, Gather on strong-hinged haunches Ready for wolf-love. Wolf-love all timeless Faithful for life. “Begin with the eyes.” Of what do they speak? Of the preciousness of secret bones, Of the sacredness of...
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A goblet of Ruby ichor, Immortal quiet. A long-necked Jug, bedizened With golden straw. Peasant’s summer plenty: Bread, terrene-tan, Green figs a-split, Vulnerable. Basket’s silent meekness. Dried sea anemones, Stiff above. A pied nautilus, Fluted clamshell, Perlucent sheath. A starfish, Dessicated. Desperate. Groping for the wet. All still. Still, life. Still life. Passion...
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