Page 53 - January 2021
P. 53

Beautiful & Savage

                                        Bruce Isaacson

                           Bruce Issaacson is a poet from Las Vegas, Nevada, US

                              Halfway thru the 13 Mile loop, heading
                              downhill around a corner and standing
                              fifty feet from the roadway—two
                              young mule deer bucks, huge, bigger
                              than a man, with 2-3 antler points each,
                              eyes innocent and watching me speed downhill,
                              the only motion—brown eyes following, me
                              going too fast to stop. At the bottom at Blue Diamond Rd,
                              almost done now, a dustup by the
                              other side of the pavement, dust shooting up
                              in a whirlwind cloud three feet high;

                              as I approach, two huge brown wings
                              emerge, at least five feet wide, flap once,
                              twice, thrice, struggling to get in the air,
                              crossing Blue Diamond in front of me,
                              he’s only four feet high, turns to me
                              face like an owl, in his claws
                              a rabbit, still struggling, but skewered,
                              dripping, I’m close enough to fear
                              running into him as he turns his
                              raptor eyes a million years old at me,
                              reaching six, eight, ten feet aloft,
                              close enough to imagine the wind
                              power of those wings, rabbit now still,
                              as he disappears into a peach-shade

                              sunrise sky, sky over crimson-striped
                              mountains, in a world that is
                              beautiful, beautiful and savage,
                              I watch, doe-eyed.

        litterateur                            3                                          january 2021
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