As night broke into pieces, I had a beautiful dream,
a thought which fled me like a deer
frightened by the smell and sound of people.
I chased the dream into the woods,
the trees growing thicker and larger
the deeper in I gave chase to the creature
Until the beautiful dream was gone
and I was surrounded by leaves
and tall, scornful grass, and bemused bushes.
My heart grew cold and I shook
as I heard branches crack and the birds
stop chirping as some unknown animal stirred.
A hunter perhaps? I crept slowly back
the way I had come, back to the growing light
of the white and rescuing morning sun.
Back to the start of the chase of the dream,
a dream with features as obscure
and anonymous as any wild deer.
R. R. Shea