Counting Deer
There are five
perhaps six, maybe more?
There's always the invisible
when observing deer.
A speckled group
braids a tangled grove.
Stippled light shapes -
not their appearance
but their disappearance.
Deeper into the trees
there are mottles and flecks,
a sun-streaked shimmering.
Deer thread leaf and bough
floating over
pools of light and shade.
Shapes move in and out
of a mirage
painted to baffle.
I watch
tallying their invisible sum
on a green abacus.
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