Oh Deer

Your eyes are open as

twin pockets of night trapped

by the glare of morning but

are you sleeping,

or dead?

You lie on your side not moving

though movement was intrinsic

to your form, grace and

light tap upon the earth

are you sleeping,

or dead?

What dreams go on inside your head

your fur not yet matted, your sides

not yet collapsed under weight

of the sun

are you still sleeping,

or dead?

Flies gather on you, touch your skin

with their insistent fingers yet

you do not shake them off

I don’t think you are sleeping

anymore

I think this time

you are dead.

Reviews

[light and ashes]

Wow.... this is shocking and horrifying, but actually really good! I loved it. I think at times people can relate to this. We wonder if we are sleeping or are we actually dead? That's how I interpreted it anyway. Brilliant.

[JR]

Thanks. I've been playing around with the idea of sleep and death, and the border between the two. This just seemed to fit. I appreciate it your review, seems like it hit it's mark.