
The wild has been
bred out of us;
the part that recognizes
soul hunters
then flees or fights
to see tomorrow’s light.
Yet the urges remain,
to rationalize then act
in dark savage ways.
We pad plush cages
in domesticities’ days,
but under cast moons
prowl forests,
blood in our hearts,
seeking prey.

powerful words Lisa :-) great poem
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Thank you, Carol Anne. Sometimes I read poems and forget I wrote them. This is one of those. I wrote it on July 28!
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Very powerful poem
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Sadje, thank you. I think this is one where it was an ekphrastic of the photo.
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Very true
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This is just excellent, Lisa. I really like it.
~David
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David, thanks. Glad it resonates with you.
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We can never fully eliminate that wildness. (K)
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The wild is never quite forgotten. :-)
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No it isn’t. And shouldn’t be. The overlords would love us to be docile, obedient, and … manageable.
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:-) True enough ! :-)
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