Hard Lessons of Adolescence


Winter
grudgingly loosens her grip,
lets fly
the mud and the floods,
one big whoosh…

Strands a
one-antlered two year old
mule deer buck,
lop-sidedly dejected,
too humiliated,
too depressed by his
half assed shedding
to know that
this, too…will pass.

You can tell
he feels more out of place
than a street smart London punk
in a psychedelic mohawk,
complete with eyebrow rings and
tattoo neck snake
at the local
Bitter Creek cowboy brawl and dance
on Saturday night.

Little one,
he looks so bedraggled
you want to whisper in his ear,
“don’t worry
you don’t know it yet,
but this will be your year.”

Wait until those
new horns come in
strong and wide and handsome.
Those elusive does will
switch their tails,
flop big ears
and blink… then.

It is not so long,
old Indians know
deer mate on the first full moon
after the brush turns blue.

Be patient
Little One,
it will be here before
you know it.