by Francine Marie Tolf
We have lost our ability to name.
We say collateral damage, downsizing, factory farm.
Error in judgment. Extraordinary rendition.
We say sky, but we don’t mean it.
We say antelope, owl,
as if these words had power.
As if the names of animals hadn’t long fled
back into animals,
where they pulse like dark suns.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh, yeah.
Thank you.
That is a phenomenal poem…because it is true and I love the last line….where they pulse like dark suns…beautiful!
Thank you very much, Julia, reading your comment made my day! This poem is from my chapbook, Like Saul, which has a lot of poems about animals in it. There’s a link to it on my website in case you care to read about the book. Francine.