Telling: Streams & Logs

Poetry

visitation

I turn the corner out of solitude
into motion 

through stippled trees
a startlement of white   a dog  

a beast   scaled for giants
blunt warrior's face swinging 

he turns he runs
taking me with him 

caught    and just as suddenly
released 

by the stag
brown as houses 

cutting clean across my path
and gone again to shadow

and everything is changed
except the light 

and the name I call myself
in the dark