Inner Urban Sprawl

The deer in the field
still as a porcelain statue
I saw the night I stood
outdoors in cold moonlight
among snow-dusted fields glowing shyly
beneath cool crystal stars
bathed in silence within and without
has been replaced now
by real porcelain statues
of mute deer beside blind houses
In a suburb called Deer Run

Do they know the sight of real deer?
pale shadows in the moonlight
liquid beauty like falling stars?
do they know the feeling
of standing outdoors at midnight
peering at flesh statues and dark skies
echoing your own inner landscape
as clear and uncharted
as the sloping snow-covered fields?

But that silence is rare now
growing more scarce:  we live crowded
feel crowded, think crowded thoughts
Perhaps I should build a mental subdivision
name it Place of Falling Stars

But will I remember the real feeling
of that temporary brilliance
that arc of fading light
the way my life made sense in that moment
as I and the watching deer
formed a temporary alliance
a frozen audience
our lives reduced to simplicity
our senses aware    awake    alive

© Sharon Henriksen
01/19/01