Saturday, October 27, 2018
My Musey Meez
I write surrounded by wolves
and nature: wolves and herons and elephants
gaze down on me, and a wall of trees,
green and alive, and full of birds,
thrives outside my window.
My wolf-pup's eyes gaze ever at me:
steadfast, patient, loyal, eternal.
Often, my eyes go to the trees outside,
to watch them dance, to witness
my lone hummingbird coming to the feeder,
leftover from the summer past.
My meez offers keys or pen, in invitation.
The muse is balky; it starts and stalls,
then spits out a few words or lines.
I look into the eyes on the wall:
the eyes of the wild that I love
and celebrate in my work,
that companioned me throughout my life,
that I live and die for.
A wolf howl is lodged in my heart.
Now and then it escapes
into a poem.
for Toni's prompt at Real Toads: to write about our "meez" - the actual physical place where we write. Mine, as you can see, is surrounded by wolves and nature: my greatest inspiration.