
The Stag
Nov 4 · 1 min read
Bearing a king’s crown
The eyes of a repentant child
A coat of the gold of the corn
Wandering purposely
Through the carpets of dew
Softly, so softly
The mist does not break
And no trail is left
Through the earthbound cloud
The shoulders of mountains
The flanks of a meteor
The feet light as swallow’s flight
Just denting the frost.

