Photo By Victoria Shaw
    To go from this
    dwarf forget-me-not
    in alpine meadow
    to this black residue
    of ink
    and not see
    the smoke in mirrors
    the mannerisms.
    A weak trick
    of words
    that flutter but cannot
    fly, or flying
    cannot land like
    starlings startled
    into infinity
    somewhere out beyond
    the hand
    setting down the pen.
    This incongruity
    in the bones of things
    that seeks its cure
    in nomenclature.
    Each word first or last
    each outlasts its
    miniature petals of blue
    the inner yellow eyelet
    stamen, which then
    seems not so delicate
    not so permanent
    in its renewal
    but somehow yet
    bears up against
    cold truth
    which in the end
    is the tundra’s love
    of words and words
    their alpine tundra.
Tundra Poem
George Moore
The Honey Land Review
Spring 2009
Volume 1, Issue 2
GEORGE MOORE's poetry has appeared in The Atlantic Monthly,
Poetry, North American Review, Colorado Review, Orion, Meridian,
Chelsea, Nimrod, and he is a three time nominee for a Pushcart Prize.  He
was a finalist for the Richard Snyder Memorial Prize from Ashland Poetry
Press in 2007, and earlier for The National Poetry Series, The Brittingham
Poetry Award, and The Anhinga Poetry Prize.  His most recent poetry
collections are Headhunting (Edwin Mellen, 2002), a travelogue of
ancient ritual practices of love and possession, and All Night Card Game
in the Back Room of Time (Poetschapbooks.com, 2008), an eBook on
quantum theory as a metaphor for life's paradoxes.  He teaches at the
University of Colorado, Boulder.