17 October 2018

Confessions: Encounter

Mule Deer, Photo by Tupper Ansel Blake,
United States Fish and Wildlife Service,
2001 (Public Domain)
October sun,
Deep blue sky,
Between afternoon and dusk,

I had been running.
He stood just off the trail

Seen suddenly,
Yet maybe
Having been there all along.

Grass belly high,
Wild rose hips, willow thicket,
Reds, greens, golds.

His coat, a silver brown,
White collar
Underneath his chin.

Black-liquid eyes,
A charcoal visor,
'Neath his sweeping crown.

I paused;
He watched me pass
And then we disappeared again.

A whispered breeze
Tugged at the trees;
The lake lapped at its bank.

No comments:

Post a Comment