In that moment they were magnificent

What is this place where toadstools sprout up
In rings in the yard below my deck.
Where bluejays and grackles fall from the sky
No one knows why.

What has grown between us
During our long solitude safe from each other 
Brood X slumbering for 17 years
Risen to reek havoc then slipping into sleep

The citizens of this place stumble
Finding no real home
Finding landscapes changed
By mowers and insecticide.

The bucks, antlers mossy still,
Pass through my yard, lazily looking at me.
They may never become great stags
Prey to asphalt and rubber and steel.

Have they lost their connection to the land
Like a child raised in urbana,
His earth, kept in pots, and flowers
Printed on curtains, fluttering in windows.

They paused, then
Lean muscles flexing,
white tails flipping,
loped off between the houses.

In that moment, they were magnificent.