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Oh, my God, I consider this poem beautiful! It is absolutely to my taste: what a powerful invention the metaphor ">The old wolves of Bethlehem". Che dire! Bravissimo...Robin. Erminia (also, in Alison's daughter there must be the gem of good poetry. Her room and obsessions prove it). Erminia On Thu, 17 Jan 2002 09:26:50 -0000, Robin Hamilton <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >Another wolf poem ... > >Robin Hamilton. > > > FOR WOLVES TALL AT THE SHOULDER > > >There's a fierce sun floating high today, somewhere >Strangers are pacing out my grave. Sister, do not >Leave the park, do not - the wolves are out, > >The old wolves of Bethlehem are howling at the moon, >Been howling since the boy died on the tree, their love >Gone, tomorrow cancelled out by that wasteful death. > >As the wolves howl on, the rivers run, the rivers >Free within their banks. Do not pity the rivers >Who have their own agenda, and may bite. > >Wolves and rivers and a clean moon appearing >One day - unusual. Happiness is sometimes permitted, >But we may wear our misery with style. > > > >----- Original Message ----- >From: "Alison Croggon" <[log in to unmask]> >To: <[log in to unmask]> >Sent: Thursday, January 17, 2002 9:14 AM >Subject: Re: A Responsibility to Awe (Meet Dr. Heavens!) > > >> Dear Erminia >> >> You should meet my 12yo daughter, who is obsessed by wolves.