The Blooming of a Short Boy

In the clearing amidst the bushes.

The green leaves of the woods.

Among the honey coated insects,

And the smell of jasmine.

Between the sunflowers of the meadow

A young doe,

Its muscles flexed with

The frolicking motion of young creatures.

In the bright June noon

On this sun stained day.


Day drowns and the moon is drawn,



In a silver spring

Flowing from her lovely neck,

Like sap from a mapple.


And though the little doe was all but dead

Her eyes still glimmered, two lights in her head.

Perhaps all the stars are

But does’ eyes in the skies,

And in the silver mirror on the floor, see

The face of the man I have for so long sought

To be.

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