The Deer and the Snake

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The deer is humble, lovely as God made her 
I watch her eyes and think of wonder owned

These strange priests enter the cathedral of woods 
And seven Marys clean their hands to woo her

Foot lifted, dagger-sharp—her ears 
Poised to their points like a leaf's head

But the snake strikes, in a velvet arc
Of murderous speed—assassin beautiful

As mountain water at which a fawn drank 
Stand there, forever, while poison works

While I stand counting the arms of your Cross 
Thinking that many Christs could hang there, crying.

© Kenneth Patchen