Nature – Page 2 – THE LONELY WHITE WOLF

what is a weed?

June 4, 2025

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.
𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜
𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝.
𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎,
𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍
𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗,
𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎.

𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚜
𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎.
𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜
𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜,
𝚗𝚘.
𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐,
𝙾𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑.

picking strawberries

May 30, 2025

i was sad to see them
wrapped in plastic
after picking them
so freely in the fields
all those years ago.

a girl and her basket,
nose blushed by the sun,
ribbons snapping
in the wind,

mosquito bites and
the hum of bees
as golden light
cast shadows
across tall grass.

in the distance, laughter.
innocence, yet to be taken

consider the pencil
i hold in my hand
and the decades of growing
now torn from the land
like a babe ripped
from its mother’s breast
what life had to end
for this page that i hold
so that i might scribe poems
with words so bold

and so, what does make a home

May 25, 2025

and can we make one anywhere?
and what about belonging,

do blades of grass belong?
taken for granted and stepped on,

and what about the daisies,
ripped up and made into chains?

does a tree ever dream
of forests far away?

is the hermit grab grateful
for no fixed address?

and is the swift yearning to land,
and crying for rest?

is the mountain growing to see
what lies beyond the seas?

and so, what does make a home,
and can we make one anywhere?

i filled it with flowers

May 21, 2025

they left two large holes
deep and dark
like a well in the forest

and i started to drown
at first
and lost myself and
who i was
the parts of me that were them

until i saw the flowers
and filled the holes
with shells from the ocean
that sparkled

CORA AND THE CROW

December 21, 2023

what bird is this

that comes to me

so late at night

and speaks sweetly

bringing word

of places unknown

with tales of forests

overgrown

of running rivers

never dry

of star filled nights

that shine and thrive

it whispers to me

where i reside

a dank, dark well

amidst the tides

for i know no sunrise

or blue moon that shines

my world is darkness

and endless night

poem #25

April 18, 2021

ivy part II

what was it that you said to me about the moon,
how it had the magnitude to capture our shadows?
were those the exact words that you used?
i can remember the story of the princess,
who became trapped in the moon's reflection
on the surface of the lake.
we each recall the story differently - 
you argue that she was a queen;
i do not think that it matters.

we wander into the forest.
the silence was uncomfortable;
i hesitate just for a moment.
you gently take my hand
and guide me from the path.
i will never find my way back.

the air is thick and pungent,
i'm suffocated.
i can taste wet soil; 
the stench of damp rot and decay.
'not much further,' you say.
i did not know you had a plan.

we came upon a well,
the crumbling stone;
overgrown with ivy.
i felt the wave of unease.
'look down it,' 
i did not hesitate to obey.
it's so deep, is there something down there?
you ask me to imagine falling in.
but that is a game i will not play.

i do not know at what point
you let go of my hand.
it must have been when i turned;
you had already gone.

poem #15

January 17, 2021

she told me to cut the cards twice
and create three piles. 
then she told me,
pick three cards,
as i held my question in the air.
she placed walnuts on the table.

the air filled with thick mist;
a blue filter over the forest.
she lay there on the rocks,
her legs partially in the stream.

a single pink rose on her breast;
her marble skin glowed.
her palms facing up like the Virgin.
the fur of animals had been scattered;
her hair neatly combed.

poem #1

October 30, 2020

lake

perceiving a lake in the distance
obscured within a knotted forest.
 the path, at first, appeared quite hidden
 and the lake beyond my clasp.
 so profound were those waters -
 the glass surface glistened and shone,
 but underneath was murky, i faltered:
 what hidden bodies would i unearth?
 the sylvan setting seemed hospitable
 and concealed my lake from view.
 my arms they bled from wading branches
 and following the path i knew.
 determined was i to swim those waters,
 pushing until i could break through.

THE LONELY WHITE WOLF

my secret notebook

Category: Nature