The Skunk (Psalm 23)

I am anointed too,
brushed with his broad mark.
He leads me safely through
the alley in the dark. The Mockingbird (Psalm 98)

Hub of the whirligig,
he is my perch and poise.
I pour from a high twig
a round of joyful noise. The Sheep (Psalm 119)

Tepid, woolly, I stray,
leaving the path behind me.
It’s really the best way:
my shepherd’s glad to find me. The Bumblebee (Psalm 19)

I sense him everywhere,
like pollen far-flung,
heavy on the air
as sweetness on the tongue.

Articles by Alfred Nicol

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