Deer gather as the scent of morning rises from the earth, and falls from the sky.
Dawn
Woodland
Fifteen Minutes
Fruitful
Fertile
. . .
I raise my head, snout to the air.
As I sense the twist and turn of pungent scent as light begins.
The chase of hare, the mark of fox, the flight and feathered crow.
The musk and marsh of all things soft, succulent upon the breeze...