Deer Chili
He would walk out alone two by two into the Mishy Mashy woods allot
To find what he'd forgot
On this day, when the air smelled of meat
Charred and blackened on crusting surfaces of peat
He remembered that the sun was on time,
And that he had to find what he had missed before he got too old
He climbed up high to reach the handy stand foot by foot wherein
The foggy canopy space is curvy and dewdrops are pearly
Thinking that his slicker slacker was too bright for them to see,
He misted his pelt smelt
The cranberry clearing below was regretfully empty
Yesterday, it bore the color of lavender and reddish gold
He tried to clear the muggles from his mind or take a lichen to them,
But he couldn't
So he put away his bow and handed himself a pocket
In it was the hair of a locket fair and bygone losted
His body was frosted
Still, as he ran his fingers through it he gladdened
And sparked the why of which he mainly camed
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
Added by Poetry Lover
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