Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

You can watch the sky
And the wind patterning the grass
And try to understand the ways of sheep
But you’ll get bored
In the end
Or fall asleep.

Wolf! You cry out.
You blow your whistle, ring your bell,
Call the wolf hotline on your mobile phone
And the villagers come.
But there is no wolf.

Later, you try it again.
This time making it sound more urgent.
Come quickly. The wolf has carried off a new-born lamb!
The villagers come.
They are angry. You are sorry
But you know you’ll do it again
Before the long, dreary day is through.

And where the trees meet the slopes
As the evening fades
The wolves are gathering

4 comments:

megha said...

well i love these sea glass.


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C.J.Duffy said...

Hello Megha,

Nice to meet you on the lake shores of the Loire Valley in snowbound France.

'Ello Jon, got a new motor?

Matt Dioguardi said...

One's own free unfettered choice, one's own caprice, however wild it may be, one's own fancy worked up at times to frenzy--is that very "most advantageous advantage" which we have overlooked, which comes under no classification and against which all systems and theories are continually being shattered to atoms. And how do these wiseacres know that man wants a normal, a virtuous choice? What has made them conceive that man must want a rationally advantageous choice? What man wants is simply INDEPENDENT choice, whatever that independence may cost and wherever it may lead. And choice, of course, the devil only knows what choice.

Feodor Dostoevsky

It's the devil that makes us do it. Thanks for a great poem!

wastedpapiers said...

A bit like that poem about the wolf who cried boy and the one who cried spam. Nice.

word verification says- "congly"