Tell me about the sound of wind in the pines,
the cushioned duff, the needles that make
a clean floor and bring a hush to the understory.
Tell me how deer come here at night
to curl into ovals, how they dream of windfall
apples, a scent like wine, how when they dream
of wolves, their hooves kick out like knives.
I can see the tamped outlines of their beds,
where they scuffle into needles that cling to them
like fine red parentheses. Tell me how at nightfall,
I split in two and the other half of me comes here
to these trunks, where I lie among the deer, and the sides
of our bodies barely touch with every rising breath.
"Tell Me Again" originally appeared in the Beloit Poetry Journal and is republished here with kind permission of the author.
The ALL Review is pleased to present our How to Live series, poems chosen to help readers navigate these difficult and rapidly changing times.
