Words circle an elusive center of meaning
as wolves searching for warmth stalk fires
on the coldest night of the year
and aurora borealis
dances in awe of the futility of words and wolves
while the stars go on ignoring their own.
Published in Open Arts Forum on .
I am a retired entomologist/educator and have been writing poetry for a long time. It's only been in the last few years that I have taken it a little more seriously. I keep trying through writing to find new perspectives that reveal the layers of meaning that are always there, just below the surface of the obvious. I write because I enjoy it, and sometimes it helps me understand the world and myself better.
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