Kurt Philip Behm

Friday Quad

Beautiful Loser

 

Successful

at failure

Whose wins

are lost

His battles

ridden

And conquests

gone

 

He tilts at

windmills

Where roads

dead end

All hope

inclement

As tears

— befriend

 

**

 

 

Primal Ordained

 

Looking

into the eyes

of a wolf

Is like staring

into

your soul

 

Not human

or animal

but primal ordained

Releasing

your fear

— his kinship foretold

 

**

 

The Sawtooths

 

The Sky

is the frame

that forever defines us

 

Our peaks

but a silhouette

in the last of its light

 

Horizon

to horizon

we sit at the center

 

Our summit’s

in reverence

— to its shining delight

 

**

 

 

 At The End

 

You can’t manage

what can never be measured

Or hold tight

to what can’t be contained

In the beginning

you never win the race

Only at the end

— victory proclaimed

 

**