Moon When Deer Drop Their Horns

I see mystically

Into a crystalline future

Majestic snow flakes

Silver frost, predestined

The magnificent ghosts

Of amber scarlet

Tragic autumn leaves descending

Decaying, penetrating

The senses of the portrayer

In this haze

In this mist

In amidst

The ice fields cracked

Chasing deer across winter

White silver, gray, cutting

Cursing this human skin

My feet frozen

My footprints lost

I abscond

I abdicate

I lose control quietly

To another moon

Where the deer drop their horns

And I lose myself

Amid the oak and cottonwood

The long thin islands

This lifetime of beautiful

Obscured memories

That slip and slide

Through this Milky-Way

Galaxy tonight