11-08-2015, 01:16 AM
2nd Edit
Re-cursed
Five deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
Through a dull but brightening morning
And pine forest, sprites of which they are,
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if an artist had applied its color
Straight from the tube.
Each follows each, loosely single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are sobered Fauns,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are Minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
1st Edit
Five deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
Through a dull but brightening morning,
And pine forest, sprites of which they are,
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if an artist had applied its color,
Straight from the tube.
Each follows each, loosely, single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are sobered Fauns,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are Minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
Original version;
Recursed
Deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
(Antlerless for now)
Through a dim but brightening morning,
(And a forest, life of which they are)
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if the artist had applied its color
Straight from the tube;
Each follows each, loosely single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are fauns, indeed,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
(Written at my sister's hilly, wooded home, looking out the window.)
[Now with edits posted in the original post]
Re-cursed
Five deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
Through a dull but brightening morning
And pine forest, sprites of which they are,
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if an artist had applied its color
Straight from the tube.
Each follows each, loosely single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are sobered Fauns,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are Minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
1st Edit
Five deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
Through a dull but brightening morning,
And pine forest, sprites of which they are,
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if an artist had applied its color,
Straight from the tube.
Each follows each, loosely, single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are sobered Fauns,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are Minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
Original version;
Recursed
Deer walk, branch-limbed, bark-haired,
(Antlerless for now)
Through a dim but brightening morning,
(And a forest, life of which they are)
On mossy grass, suspiciously bright green,
As if the artist had applied its color
Straight from the tube;
Each follows each, loosely single-file,
Always downslope.
The ancients had it wrong:
See, these are fauns, indeed,
But with the fore-parts of shy animals,
As we are minotaurs
Cursed with the heads of men.
(Written at my sister's hilly, wooded home, looking out the window.)
[Now with edits posted in the original post]