i apologize, homer,
i don’t have a goddess
to invoke or a pathetic
fighter to prop up
only my poor verses
all useless jargon
metaphor and simile
meter and rhyme
or rhythm at least
but i will whisper my true name
to an acorn
and plant it at the crossroads
every leaf and twig
will sigh my secrets
when autumn bares the trees
my words will blow about you
stick to your shoes
and you will pluck out
of your hair while gazing
in your mirror
Words and Feathers 
Oh my lord this is good. Your poetry paints such beautiful thoughts,’my words will blow about you’. Dang.
Thank you so much. I’m really glad you enjoyed it.
I love this one, Crow.
My favorite stanza:
“but i will whisper my true name
to an acorn
and plant it at the crossroads
every leaf and twig
will sigh my secrets”
Stunning!
Thanks! I’m glad that stanza stands out. If I had to cut it down to one stanza that would be the one I’d keep.
That’s what I thought, too. I like the whole poem, that stanza can stand on its own.
Awesome. It’s like a spell.
One of your best, sir.
Really? Thank you so much!
Yes, I particularly love the third stanza; it resonates with me.
Excellent! I’m really glad.
Oh! But I’m going to say that the last stanza is my favorite. Such a picture…
I think the last two make up the heart of this poem. 😀
Agreed! A wonderful magical-realism feel.
Ah, your poem touches my black heart! I love whispering to acorns — they go a little nuts, but it’s worth it 🙂
~PR