ELK Poem by Jan Erik Vold

1
You may call me an
elk. I am
no elk but I have
the patience

endurance
strength
of an
elk - an elk's goodnaturedness. I kick hard

but seldom.
Only
when
necessary.

2
You see me
on
road signs
by the wood's edge, under

the thundering skies
of an oil
painting, outlined against a Canadian
sun

set. But I dwell
some
place
else.

3
That I live
in a story
by Tarjei
Vesaas. With a long neck

and an eager
muzzle that knows where to look
for the juicy
part of the bark. I'm

not to be
fooled
by the highway's
tiny and tempting mirrors.

4
Yes, there is
a bull's eye. Not always

where you'd expect
it.