Sunday, April 06, 2008
How to See Deer
Be near-sited. Tapetum-lit eyes / fireflies.
Spots and voids behind lids /
In autumn rut refrain
Bed down in dog parks. Urban deer
& scraggly stands of trees
reek of pee.
Be capable of stupid happiness
at rumpy flashes
Stomp until utterance is overcast
by leaves and twigs of trembling
aspen, bur oak
& beaked willow. Strip bark.
* * *
I wrote/posted this poem in anticipation of my last Creative Retirement class tomorrow.
(Of course, there's still the wind-up the week after and the reading I've organized for participants / instructors the week after that...)
And even though the poem is now three days old, I'm still in seeing-deer-mode. Yesterday,for instance, when we were at the zoo, we ventured into a 'staff only' section to have an up-close-and-personal with a small herd of mule deer.
And later, when we drove home along one edge of Assiniboine Forest, we saw a pair of deer and so slowed the car. We soon realized that there were six white-tail deer in the trees, utterly unconcerned by the cars that didn't stop.
And I noticed that their hides were the exact colour of the fallen leaves and sun-bleached grasses all around them.
Today, I picked up a Province of Manitoba pamphlet called "Living with White-Tailed Deer: A Homeowner's Guide" - that was sponsored by Manitoba Public Insurance, no less - from Fort Whyte Alive before witnessing a Canada Goose brawl.
Thump thump thump.
Of course, I'm posting on all of this instead of getting down to writing my curriculum...
(I'm not even going to MENTION how I was pierced by the finger-woven ceintures flechees Carol James pulled out of her bag at the artisan's fair at Fort Whyte...
How I was pierced by the catfish and the shadow of the catfish on the stone of its massive tank in the interpretive center.)