in the deep
tree studded
reservoir woods
the deer understand me
they have eyes in the woods
a native inborn guide
that abandons them
at the the grassy verge
of the roads which we inject
into their shrinking world
like enervating drugs
they rob the herd
of their knowing
they navigate
somnambulant
through fitful dreams
of blinding lights
and rampant steel
with teeth that bite
and wheels that devour
but the deer, the graceful deer
hold no malice towards me
I pass with clemency
under the bare winter canopy
I view a nearby buck silently
weaving through the trees
running on three legs
his fourth leg
is broken through
just below the knee
though still attached
hanging by thick hide
it dangles freely
madly as he flies
sweeping counter
to his moves
keeping broadly
narrow time
swinging unpent
like a loose wild pendulum…
lucy meskill
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