MD Kerr

Day 3

Free verse

Handwritten poem

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flourish

Sometimes I donít want to be a poet.
When I canít speak, I want to say more
than ďfootsteps scared the hares under the brambles.Ē
What I mean is a steel-blue dome under a bright grey sky:
why do I tell you, then, that red kites float?
I donít even mean the dome and the sky, I mean
something I will express

through the medium of wasps
and I am determined to tell you, straight out,
as the crow flies.
Look, here, itís very simple:
the shadow squirrel lives on an elder tree by the green
and races intangibly where the path curves
but only if you look down.

The sky squirrelís never to be seen.
Why canít I say, clearly,
I thought the heron had returned to the lock?
I donít mean the heron, I mean
the way its wings unfold to cover the sky
but I donít mean the wings, I mean
a certain number of magpies.

I will state the number plainly in
lines per stanza or stanza counts or syllables.
Why do I bang on about birds
when what I mean is
horses standing in sky-wide sun-still water
are twinned with water-horses, and the boatís on land?
Iím sure thatís clear enough now. Iím sure you understand.

Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer for Writers' Digest April Poem-a-day challenge for the prompt to write a poem about animals, including animals, or using an animal in the title and not mentioning it in the poem. I thought that might even give me a poem with a title... nah, better luck next time!

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