The Ferrets
There was a dying breed outside
The forest.
They rose with pallor relished
And true.
Like rhythmic bramble they
Trotted through stream,
Mares and lovers gave way.
Rivered with Rilke,
A new day came to pass.
The ferrets of the un-furrowed brow
Gave brilliance to our every breathe.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment