The Deer
All day I wanted you
and all day you weren’t there.
So finally, I went out walking.
The deer I saw under the twilit trees
was a blue silhouette against
the fading day and the coming night
engaged in their hushed code of exchange.
I wanted to be inside the quiet of the deer’s body,
listening to the silence at the edge of the woods.
The surface of the lake was still,
a mirror for the first few stars
burning through the cloth of night.
The blue deer darkened to indigo and
disappeared into her shadow.
In the distance
between desire and clarity,
your voice,
honey and bourbon and smoke,
filled an empty room.
And that room
in a house
in a country lost to me.
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