Hi, it’s William Wolfsworth, new poetry correspondent at the Greenygrey. The humans among you might relate to me best by comparing me to my human parallel, the wonderful Romantic-era William Wordsworth. I’ve been hired after the Greenygrey noticed Baron Wolfman becoming a little stressed after his rapid rise to Head of Creations, while also trying to coordinate the search for Andy Wolfhol.
Poems Backlog at Folding Mirror Poetry
Baron being too busy, and Jack Wolfpac’s workload increasing with Marc Latham’s new travel25years blog, meant the Greenygrey needed an experienced werewolf poet, and I certainly qualify on that account.
A backlog had built up on the fmpoetry.wordpress.com website by the time I was hired, and had risen all the way to two when I got down to work.
But I found my paws soon enough, with the help of the Greenygrey team, and we’ve now imported both poems into the Greenygrey world.
Unfortunately, I’ve been wordying on about myself for so long we’ve only got time to publish the first one here now, but will bring you the second a.s.a.p. Here it is:
Essentially Water, Landing Dependent
Snow falls on high
icing the mountains
above the dividing line
Thirty-two Fahrenheit, Zero-degrees Celsius
drop below the cut
washed down gutters
rain muddies the ground