i once
grew restless
of my restlessness,
and climbed to the top
of a prairie blanketed hill.
on that spring eve,
the air so sweet and swinging
like the songs of my lover,
i gazed over that hill
and saw that the moon
had become red,
drowning herself in sunset totems.
i looked behind me,
only to look into the eyes
of two does.
the red moon
sank into my hair
as we watched each other.
they grew impatient
of my stubborn stare,
my desire to dance their dances
and eat their grasses.
so they puffed their black noses out
and ran off
into the foreign pines.
i looked
into the eyes
of the animals
and it was a spell-
a memory that had happened before
and would happen again.
they were my ancestors,
they were my sisters,
writing their poems
in deer tracks among asters.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me in the Woods
Poetryassorted poetry inspired by nature, family and the life of a person who spends far too much time in her head. (sexuality, death and decay are alluded to or directly addressed in some of my poems. these poems are marked by "*" in the chapter title.) ...
