Arrow
Women robed in blessings
of the deer keep the earth
as kindly as their mothers
while men honor antlers
in ritual and work
and all grow strong on flesh and spirit.
The arrow like a vow
seizes the heart
and the hunter's prideless eye
does not blink as the red muscle
flickers and goes out.
The heart of man and woman
dies a little too
for sharing souls
is not an easy matter.
But the setting sun
tugs the little deaths
to the other side of darkness
where the last beat meets
the first in holy union
and stars who give night form
and steer the dreamer
do not protest the sun but run
like bears to den at dawning.
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