— their population browsing overpowers the buds and bark
of hibernating saplings — they do of course cause damage
— however never the destruction of their environment
no matter how bitter the winter — never the roots of grass —
the fields erupt again in spring — the incidental damage
decays to nutrients that germinate renewal into new growth
— injuries grow their scars and heal — as latent second buds
under the tips of spurs nipped off to satisfy survival
fill in the space filled out to full leaf in the sun — nothing
is missing — nothing taken — and though their own survival at times
forecasts starvation — satiety even in famine is given back
into the nakedness of the humility it came from — it’s rare
almost unnatural — to find even debris of their remains in woods
— more than unnatural that the ground they trespassed — grazed
to its exhaustion — blow stubble of spent furrows into windy dust
(natural was first printed in Poetry Salzburg Review, Spring 2014)
About Roger Desy
I write lyrics, often sonnets, trying to give an old form new room, perhaps a new freedom.
I taught literature and creative writing and edited technical manuals. But I’ve remained grounded in lyric poetry. Samples are in Cider Press Review, Kenyon Review, Mid-American Review, Poet Lore, South Carolina Review, and other journals.
I like to think that observing nature in the throes of its phenomena preserves not only nature and the observations but saves us as well.