THE MOOSE.

THE MOOSE

In the woods the world

shimmers and shakes

and things materialize

at the center of controversy

lies the utmost respect

for diversity

the trail of tears

reigns like time

you are yours and you are mine

it is like the blind leading

the blind into excursions

unknown

there are waters folding out of

flowers

and break down into sieves

all the stories in the world

are not withheld

i brought them to you dear

without a rhyme or reason

without a method of fear

or brought by any season.

Tomorrow time might be withheld

by the storms of light unfurled

broken down by the winds

are the thieves of night.

The brown fur, the hapless god

he trods through the snow.

In the season he will go;

without wasting life by being slow.