Introverted

NaPoWriMo 2026, Day 20

NaPoWriMo 2026, Day 20 prompt: Write a poem that uses an animal that shows up in myths and legends as a metaphor for some aspect of a contemporary person’s life. Include one spoken phrase.

The Lone Wolf

I’m not antisocial, I like others.
Not quite Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel,
I don’t “want to be alone,” I just like it.

My family is my tribe, my pack.
We do everything important together.
It’s seven of us this year but a few
older pups will be moving on soon.

Like what humans call introverts,
I find strength and focus from
being alone. It stays with me
and is there when I need it.
But being independent is pleasure too.
It’s not either or, it’s both.

I need others. Hunting alone
requires much more effort for
not much in return. And it is
more dangerous. Humans
seem to want to kill us all.

Alone is when I explore.
I learn things without the fuss
and worry about others.
I am a lone wolf — not a loner.

Humans have lone wolves, too.
It’s interesting when we encounter each other.
It’s like we just know. We can’t communicate.
We each say “howdy” in our own wary way.
But we know and we both just move on
and go down our separate paths.

Look both ways because the leader of the pack may be howling at the moon.
Mind the gaps for hidden snacks.

NaPoWroMo 2024, Day 29, Antithetically Self-effacing

The darling lexicographers at Merriam-Webster selected ten words from Taylor Swift songs. I was double-dog-dared to choose one of the words and write a poem that uses that word in its title.

Antithetically Self-effacing

Having a love-hate relationship
with attention and spotlights
and being “that guy” when attention
is focused on me, which makes it weird
that I like to stand and speak at the mic,
to be the MC, the introverted old man
who is not very shy—that guy
is certainly me. She said I had
“mic presence” (whatever it was).

I will talk to anyone, especially
those who break the clichéd ice first.
Me! The stage crew grunt who,
without notice or one second of rehearsal,
had to read his lines from
Macbeth in front of the entire
student body, whose girlfriend
said, “Your pants were so tight,
I was distracted. You read lines?”

Yeah, I am that guy.

Look both ways and listen to the words of the tortured and ravaged poets,
and when the West Reading angel sings, or gives one of her looks;
sing, sing, sing; or dance, if you can’t.
And mind the gaps if she gets you tickets for the Super Bowl.