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Other Poets (a Cento)

April 1, 2013

There are other poets.

The old farmer working the earth,

lines etched in his weathered face.

The young housewife

composing herself each day

before the mirror in her husband’s house.

The man alone in the winter woods

versed in the snow’s ways and the sound of the wind.

There are other poets,

but I will seek my truth

in the yellow eyes of the wolf.

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