A Poem
Perspective
You say
grief eases when a year has passed. I’ll stop
thinking, “This time last year…”
I find that true. But many years won’t bring
another, who, when I say that I may choose
to disbelieve the new honed verity
that wolves won’t harry humans
rather than lose the awed child thrilling chill
of bridal parties pulled by wild-eyed foaming
horses across a frozen Russia, thrown one
by one to ground for evil beasts to eat;
and patient red-rimmed lustful eyes
circling wood starved fires;
will only nod and smile,
not needing to ask, “Why?”
nor offer me a grim eyed chase
in crashing cars through city streets
instead.
Published in Voices, Poems From The Missouri Heartland
Won Missouri Writers Award For Poetry
