The Innisfree Poetry Journal
www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Daniel Lusk




Poet, Old School


He imagined words as silhouettes
of former creatures—nouns as animals
shorn of fur and leather, verbs as birds
adorned in wings and feathers. So

he believed, and no wonder,
they could be made to sing and sin,
to romp and roar.

If we could learn to listen,
they become themselves, for instance,
the flautist Hermit Thrush on the cliff
at Carraig Binn, a Laughing Thrush
chortling at a sidewalk table in Hawaii.

The snake in Eden’s Garden,
its insouciance, its cool sanguinity.



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