By Bruce Willard

I was tired of wanting,
tired of morning,
tired of the way the ocean waits
for the sun to set.

I was tired of thawing,
tired of spring.
Tired of hoping
bulbs would rise.

And when they did,
I was tired of the longing
sexual smell of the earth,
so expectedly ugly
and eager

that there was nothing
left to want.

Today’s poem originally appeared in AGNI, and appears here today with permission from the poet.

Bruce Willard’s poems have appeared in African American Review, AGNI Online, Harvard Review, Mead Magazine, Salamander, 5 A.M. and other publications. His new collection of poems, Holding Ground, is due out from Four Way Books spring of 2013.

Outside of his work as a poet, he works in the clothing and retail business. He is a graduate of Middlebury College and received an MFA from Bennington’s Writing Seminars in 2010. He divides his time between Maine and California.

Editor’s Note: Lyric poetry has a rich history that stems back to the very origin of the craft. Its success depends upon musicality, on meter and sound. The subjects it explores—love, life, death, sex and sexuality, lamentation, divine invocation, suffering and joy—are the same today as they were thousands of years ago. These themes are explored because they resonate with what make us human, evoking emotion and reminding us that life experiences are shared. Today’s poem thrives in the lyric, comprised of sounds that recall song, and communicating the inner workings of man that are as unique as they are universal.

Want to see more by Bruce Willard?
Mead Magazine
Project Muse
Connotation Press
Tupelo Press

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