Today's poem is by Richard Wollman


When Orion moves in December
just outside the mudroom
I lose interest

in the moon, which hangs there
and cannot compare
with the strong belt of stars,
the broad sword suspended,

though what gets me more
are his arms and legs extended,
splayed not like a hunter,
more like the hunted,

whose likeness to his prey
is seen by any eyes that know
our oldest witness.

Copyright © 2006 Richard Wollman All rights reserved
from Evidence of Things Seen
Sheep Meadow Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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