Zephyrs

Ears alert, the deer listen, reposeful as statues,

As they await forest communications, which are virtual,

Impermeable, and inarticulate to humans’ ears.

Fawns begin to stir fretfully, but the dusk is patient,

And so are the mother deer; they wait, vigilant,

Wait until the clouds drift over and obscure the moon,

When daydreams begin to dissolve into nightdreams,

Wait, the forest tells them, until your amber eyes change to gold,

Because then the night will be wrapped in gossamer,

The air becomes transformed into pure silk, but

Stay until you hear the soft breeze sighing past you, only then

Is your travel safe and remember:

The wind is always going to be to your advantage.

Finally, you will glide – not walk, nor step – but float and drift

On top of the forest floor - debutantes performing a quadrille.

Living out your short existence perpetually on the edge of darkness.

Copyright 2023 by Sally Stratso