The Stag
(from Liberty)
I walk here nearly every day,
But today felt different.
A quality in the air.
A haunting stillness.
Quiet amplified the sound
Of birds, more than usual,
Splashing around the spot where
Snowball usually stops for water,
Punctuated by a racket beyond
A thick bracket of trees,
I moved toward the sound,
Unheeding my mother’s voice
Reminding me I shouldn’t be walking
Alone here in the first place.
Gingerly stepping over stones
That bridge the water,
I landed on the other side where
Others rarely seem to go
I looked around for the cause of
The sound and find everything
In order, the stagnant stream,
The grounding tree with above-
Ground roots, and the pebbled
Passage of the dry creek bed.
His movement startled me.
I had been looking in his direction
But hadn’t seen him in the thicket
Until he announced himself
With a subtle grace that signaled
Both warning and welcome.
I remembered Snowball by my side
And quickly put her on a leash,
Though she seemed to know that
Absolute presence was required.
Majestic, transcendent,
He looked at me and I at him.
And we were not afraid.
