Stag Returns

Antlers, the Harris Museum, PrestonTo this valley of forgotten bones
from oak covered swamp through carr and marsh
a stag returns to drink at the river.
From the dockland’s basin stones
he sees the alterations of her course,
his reflection strange in flat, still water-
antlered head held high, mighty tines lightning-like,
eyes aglow with the spirit of the Boreal forest.
With him he brings the hunt- the mad ones,
the lost ones, shapeshifter gods whose bones
have been buried in our landscape again and again.
A blast on a horn, horse and hound or gun mean nothing
in his otherworldly eyes- to hunt the stag you must become him.

Riversway Dockland

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5 thoughts on “Stag Returns

  1. Love how the stag enters the poem quite realistically and then becomes more and more magical….Like too how you collapse hunter and prey for closure….leaving the reader with much food for thought. Cheers, Charlotte

  2. :::sigh::: Now that puts me back to trying to figure where and how to mount two giant fallen elk antlers I have been given. The house is undergoing a re-work as I prepare to move back in after an emergency hiatus for PTSD recovery of the husband. Since Herne is a family deity…the antlers always held significance, but finding the artful and yet safe display point for the often needed mental/spiritual gut-punch….

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