1 poem

By Nathan Lipps


I Hope This Finds Me Well

Last night a deer
his antlers bare
approached the concrete slab
where I sat and finished
a beer in the dark. 

I was pretending to care
about starlight
when he broke through
the fallen branches. The echo
of his hooves, even now.

We were both lost
in the giving up.
Acknowledging each other
by looking away.
Perfectly kind.

 

Nathan Lipps

Nathan Lipps lives in the Midwest and teaches English.