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Edgar Whitman Wilde
Poems
Feb 2013
The Forest
the acrid unease of incence
emaciating the mind
hangs in the air at the edge of the forest
where the dew drops wither
the sorrows of the moon
where shaped and tailed eyes
pacified only
by a satisfaction of images
that buzz in frenzied movements
savored and perverse
strangle
in black, scarlet, white and pink
divergent parallels
the quantum connection of memory
listen to the deformation of silence
and tease the disunity of
attempted cohesive geometry
where nothing is heard
but strained articulated color
by shaped and tailed eyes
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
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