Tuesday

Dream of Snow


I saw two deer
standing quiet
in the little clearing
below the pines.
Their eyes, luminous,
their coat, golden.
That was this morning.

And now, on their too
slender legs they have leapt
from the whiteness of snow
onto this whiteness of page
to hide in a thicket of alphabet.

Luminous eyed, shining gold
they cavort, they dance. They
leap from my screen to yours
back to mine then
through the room's glass window

into the little clearing
below the green pines
into the dream of snow.

This bright clear splinter,
I'll send on to you.  A talisman.