Slow Smoke/Blacktail Deer
BLACKTAIL DEER
The blacktail held his tawny marble pose,With every supple muscle set to spring,Nosing the tainted air—his slender limbsAnd sinews like corded copper quivering.
Ponderous the minutes, while his smoldering eyesWent burning over me, and searching mine;His heart ticked off each moment as he stoodWaiting an ominous word, a sound, a sign.
I tossed a friendly gesture! The sinews snappedAnd flung his bulk of rippled tawny stoneOver an alder, as when a bended pine,Released from pressure, catapults a cone.
Bending an arch above the alder-crown,In a stream of whistling wind the great buck went,Flirting his tail in exclamation marksTo punctuate his vast astonishment.