The questioner

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    The questioner

     


     

     

    I the wolf mighty and majestic

    Sit perched upon my rock

    My howl frightens you

    Bringing shrill delight to me

     

    But am I evil to want power

    To command respect from my court

    Is it I that commands the respect or my ways

    But I do not seek power, fear, or respect; non

    I search for love and understanding

    I search for placid meadows to birth my young

     

    And you set in your ways hunt me

    Your fear overrides your moral judgments

    So as I set upon my rock and contemplate my next move;

    I tend to wonder what will morning bring

    But it is petty of me not to live for today

     

    So I climb down from my rock and shimmy homeward

    For I know the day is done the fight almost won

    I hear them calling but think not of it

    For I know tomorrow will bring another adventure

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    twilightidiot’s Poems (7)

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