Partial night, evening, outlines
of its coat the size of sky, the fur
of some dark animal, a blanket
on fire.

Careless, impatient wolves gather
from the woods, crouching knives
unsheathed and pointed.

There in clovered green, unsure,
impossibly fragile a spotted deer.

And God, standing on His hill
counts every black & purpled
feather of the bird.

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