Andrew David Dalby

The Deer.

The Deer
I
The heavy scent of pine, oak, birch and hyssop,
Spins like secret sacred garlands within the breeze;
It twists high and then low, among the boughs of trees
that stand on the damp and musky eternal bridal road,
That leads to the town of Cassis under a celeste sky.
Its here: with a new pondering of delicate deliberation,
I see her deftly pad through twilight s last embrace.
Her feet -penetrating- the rich, dark, deep-damp soil,
That is full of the heavy scent of a rising re-birth;
where even time is held in her shy and rising ...