tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3994582605590018982.post4320673153445584514..comments2023-12-28T15:01:54.301-08:00Comments on On the Verge: Deer Onealice lenharthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09421374207478513842noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3994582605590018982.post-75364791124334996862011-05-20T16:25:38.368-07:002011-05-20T16:25:38.368-07:00thank you ginny...i love this.thank you ginny...i love this.alice lenharthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09421374207478513842noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3994582605590018982.post-19882137449316813842011-05-20T13:04:45.418-07:002011-05-20T13:04:45.418-07:00From Gary Snyder:
this poem is for deer
I dance ...From Gary Snyder:<br /><br />this poem is for deer<br /><br />I dance on all the mountains<br />On five mountains, I have a dancing place<br />When they shoot at me I run<br />To my five mountains"<br /><br />Missed a last shot<br />At the Buck, in twilight<br />So we came back sliding<br />On dry needles through cold pines.<br />Scared out a cottontail<br />Whipped up the winchester<br />Shot off its head.<br />The white body rolls and twitches<br />In the dark ravine<br />As we run down the hill to the car.<br /><br /> deer foot down scree<br />Picasso's fawn, Issa's fawn,<br />Deer on the autumn mountain<br />Howling like a wise man<br />Stiff springy jumps down the snowfields<br />Head held back, forefeet out,<br />Balls tight in a tough hair sack<br />Keeping the human soul from care<br /> on the autumn mountain<br />Standing in late sun, ear-flick<br />Tail-flick, gold mist of flies<br />Whirling from nostril to eyes.<br /><br />Home by night<br /> drunken eye<br />Still picks out Taurus<br />Low, and growing high:<br /> four-point buck<br />Dancing in the headlights<br /> on the lonely road<br />A mile past the mill-pond,<br />With the car stopped, shot<br />That wild silly blinded creature down.<br /><br />Pull out the hot guts<br /> with hard bare hands<br />While night-frost chills the tongue<br /> and eye<br />The cold horn-bones.<br />The hunter's belt<br /> just below the sky<br />Warm blood in the car trunk.<br />Deer-smell,<br /> the limp tongue.<br /><br />Deer don't want to die for me.<br /> I'll drink sea-water<br />Sleep on beach pebbles in the rain<br />Until the deer come down to die<br /> in pity for my pain.Ginnyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15736161376095059717noreply@blogger.com