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Today's poem is by Kim Bridgford

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

How can he tell them that he sees wolf-shapes
Even in their eyes? Each time he starts
To speak, he watches what happens in the gaps;
The tightening of the mouth, the eye-slits
Of disappointment. They have had enough.
But if they saw the swirling secrets of
That fur, the pack, like horror underneath,
Wouldn't they speak too? He has no love
Of this life, only faith: that when they come
For him one day, someone will save his name,
Telling of a boy who knew the terrors
Of life so well he saw no other thing
And so could only bleat to death his warning
Of a wolf. Meanwhile they pointed our his errors.



Copyright © 2003 Kim Bridgford All rights reserved
from Undone
David Roberts Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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