Moose horn, out there waiting in a glade.
While I walk off through a stunning cedar grove
Searching for a hollow half-hid in shade.
Keeping to the firmer bits, carefully I rove
Sliding in the soft snow gingerly I wade
Touched by spring, singing as I strode
Heedless in a cloud I stumbled and dove
Laughing at the perfect wreck I had made.
Grey cow, in a light mist watching me wait
Pausing to catch the rain gathering of late
Steals off neatly swallowed in the fog
Turning slowly I see an antler on a log
Pausing to gently lift and cradle my find
A coyote serenade ringing in my mind
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