ALBINO DEER

 

How still he stands

among the rash scrubbery

down in the flat wet

below the roadbed.

 

Pink eyes fearless.

Tail flashless in

stockaded stillness.

 

He turns, ambling away,

slipping into the bare tree tangle.

White shard.

Sheeny brightness.

 

Gone.

            ***

Alain spots a deer:

 

Dear snow white deer,

in the middle of nowhere,

how did I find such a treasure?

 

Are you listening for

thank you letters?

For love?

 

            ***

Albino deer, farewell:

 

What did he leave?

What trail of almost goose

feathers impaled on the bushes?

A mind-candle, surely.

The pink underskin

of the world

radiant, fair.  

 

Jeffery Beam