MY OLD HEART
Rocky highlands
south of here
are full of deer.
When roused at dusk
by a walker
they flee away
white tails held erect.
Long after their bodies
fade into the brush
you can follow
the flash & flare
of their tails
bounding away.
A woman who lives alone
high in sun rise and set
beside the highlands’
shady gullies and glens
can be chased but
will not be caught.
You would be a fool
to pursue her.
---Stephen
Lewandowski
Ah, but it is good to be foolish sometimes.
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