The Stag King

I am the stag

Standing in your fields,

Glistening with moon light,

Nose lifted

Breathing deep

Your intoxicating scent.

Drum beats of my heart

Pound in the rhythm

Of your dance.

Blood singing

The ancient songs in my cells.

I plunge into the wild woods

Into the wet Earth

Into the magic of your night.

. . . . Roderick 1989