I saw my soul in a deer and he was so afraid he stood and stared and we were equals we the wide-eyed and unquarrelsome we the only two awake under the moon it is a marvelous thing to be known so intimately words cannot fit my soul they tip onto their sides like clay jars, overfull and fractured against the ground and I spill out i spill out of them, through the cracks and the thin places i spill out and I cover the ground and I apologize for the stain I leave like cheap wine on a new rug i saw my soul in a deer and I was afraid afraid to offend him to scare him into running to spook him from where he stood in the moment where we stood, between night and morning, between species, between worlds, we were silent. and the silence made me known and I was at peace. in the still eyes of my soul