Vox Populi
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Doug Anderson: South of Laramie
The cardinal red twig dogwood in bright snow.
The mountain.
This is knowledge that requires
no interpretation.
And especially does not demand
that I speak. Unless, like the man
who named the first bird,
a blue star aloft and singing,
made a sound: pajaro. Ouiseau. Chim.
Because he could not help himself.
And that is the way with love.
Speak only when you cannot help it.
However strange and vibrant the sound.
Copyright 2019 Doug Anderson
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Like many of Doug Anderson’s poems, South of Laramie holds that twist of quiet surprise when I forget to breathe for just a moment. For me, the mark of a lovely poem.
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You’ve captured the power of poetry exactly. Thank you!
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