workaday
Hawk hunched 'gainst cold
feathers bunched
on wire
inner fire.
I drive down low
zig-zag, fast slow
back hunched
work, ho.
Day break, frost melt
sun glow, sun felt.
Hawk fly free.
Not me.
feathers bunched
on wire
inner fire.
I drive down low
zig-zag, fast slow
back hunched
work, ho.
Day break, frost melt
sun glow, sun felt.
Hawk fly free.
Not me.
Now there's a darn good poem, obliged.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Daniel! I think of all the things I write, I feel most insecure about my poems. They're wisps, you know? What are they... when do they work... who can tell? It is lovely to have one appreciated. Obliged backatcha.
ReplyDeleteHey Josh, I reckon you've read a bunch of Ray Carver. But although he was considered by many to be 'America's greatest short story writer,' he also wrote about feeling some insecurity about his poetry, and he said he really wanted to be remembered as a poet not so much as a short story writer...alas. I share a bit of your insecurity about things I write, interestingly enough I have little care for what folks think about my artwork. I have gotten some harsh criticism at art shows etc. in the past and I am really quite indifferent. But I used to go to the writing center at the U of Wash and if they gave me a bad review I would be in a funk for days! best to you, keep up the good work, obliged.
ReplyDelete