Deer drift among the trees, a slow brown fog.
And I have way too much time now on my
Eyes, that wander from my work and gaze outside.

Here on the balance beam of the equinox
We teeter into fall.
The weather tilts and pours my garden out.

Where's the balance in this equinox?
"In the destructive element immerse," the poet said
Meaning an ocean - but every element sustains and

Destroys us, at the whim of god knows what.
Let's bring the fire-wood inside
And practice fire forgiveness. For it's time.

Forehead to forehead, the does push back and forth
Under the glance of their three-point fiancé.
Their coats are changing now to winter grey.

They keep some kind of calendar in their heads:
Come October, they'll be gone.
I warm both hands upon a cup of coffee,

Waiting for words to come.
I'm feeling for another equinox:
To balance on these parallel bars of faith and doubt,

Resist and yield. The deer
Are often close like this, it's no surprise
To see them just outside the window now: three does,

Their noses up from browsing, point northeast
Staring at what? Some element of danger.
I'm caught in the perfect symmetry of their stillness

(Just so, I'm caught in the creation of a poem,
Staring inward, waiting for an element of surprise) --
A triptych of attention

Until they one by one shake heads, flap ears,
Resume their secret lives
Along the secret highways of the grass.