Spirit Deer

We don’t know how to talk to you anymore,
We just don’t have the time,
But there you were
In the middle of 351st Street,
A country gravel road in Miami County,
Your rack identified you as a survivor
Of the onslaught of city hunters,
Coming out to the country
With new guns, new ammo,
New camouflage pants and coat,
New boots,
Trussed up like a Christmas goose,
Ready to take out any big trophy buck
That shows up in their Leupold sights,
The funny thing is they have never seen you,
Probably never will,
You turned your magnificent head,
Staring directly into the Blazer’s headlights,
Undaunted now as you must have been eons ago,
When you confronted a human on foot,
Turned your head her way,
Recognized her as Medicine Woman and spoke
The language of the Spirit,
Giving her strength and knowledge.