by Glen Larum | Mar 1, 2016 | Leaving Montana, Poetry Pieces |
I grew up with a western tongue; the rhymes it makes are its own. It sings the timid rabbit’s gait, that endless mime of hide and wait; dips the wing of the shrieking owl, voices the badger’s angry growl, whispers sage and buffalo grass to screen from hunters as they...
by Glen Larum | Feb 24, 2016 | Leaving Montana |
This sprawling dance, all wings, lures the swift strike. And a fishhook moon cast against the blue baits the great night. Mayflies fishing, their careless dance tempts a harmony; the final, blinding flash of light riffles, a feeding of attractions the dance invites....
by Glen Larum | Feb 24, 2016 | Leaving Montana |
I awake in this exile, dreaming the owl’s question. I wear a close frost coat, share the mouse’s blanket of fur, warmth and feathers. I awake in this exile, see the unblinking eyes, hear the thunder of doves, tremble in the ardent chill of water, piercing fire, and...
