George Moore


the wheel is but a foot
the steel wing but a feathered one
the man stands alone on the desert
nothing but a tree the seed of which
landed haphazardly millennia before

the things we see
leave imprints on future minds
like butterflies disrupting weather
and in the skull theater house
the helpless sit mesmerized

secure against the storm, love
wins out, or is it mimicry of the wind
that cures us of forever, naming things
for what they are, brief as a whistle
through the trees?


George Moore‘s fourth collection, Children’s Drawings of the Universe, will be published by Salmon Press in 2013, and I have published poems in The Atlantic, Poetry, Northwest Review, Colorado Review, and internationally in Queen’s Quarterly, Semaphore, Blast, Dublin Quarterly, The Antigonish Review, Singapore QRL, and elsewhere. I was nominated last year for two Pushcart Prizes, Best of the Web and Best of the Net awards, and was a finalist for The Rhysling Poetry Prize, and the Wolfson Poetry Prize. He teaches at the University of Colorado, Boulder. He can be found here.