Light and dark at play
across the dappled water
I hear the frost break
underfoot, like glass.
Horned and hooved, pawing
at the frozen ground, antlered.
Lowering crown, challenging,
playfully I think. A forest Pan.
Breath suspended in tendrils on
icy air; we stare transfixed.
Reluctantly, you turn from me
relinquish me, to the gathering dusk.
Darkened skies pass across the plains
and rain turns to snow in the forests.
All trace gone except in my minds eye
and the grand look of your own.
Geraldine Moorkens Byrne
Wednesday 4 April 2007