Maybe I want to know
what happens to the wolf
disappearing into woods
or beetles camaflouged
on freckled rock.

Often what is noticeable
is deceiving: the moon
how near it floats,
the weight of water,
the poison buttercup.

Perhaps, it's wiser to abandon
the search, let mysteries live.
In a language rarely heard,
the night agrees.


Archie R Scott said...

Had a wolf once... Irregular little SOB

Rachel Phillips said...

Had a man once... irregular little SOB.