A lit match: decades of sluggish lime
coats itself over and over: threatens
the remains of an etching: the flicker
of a deer scurrying into place.
To exit the cave whose hollow contains
you: the overexposure: the firth’s
rejuvenating fallen stars: the tide
and cartwheeling mica. And now
on this moonlit evening, a startled pair
of silhouettes stop. Yes, these deer.
Return to Fall 2009 Table of Contents