Sorry, because you can't see the stanzas here, it seems a bit muddled. But email me if you want it with the stanzas shown, and I will email you the word document.

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We are blue about a morning moon,

Sighing through winter’s mist,

I used to know who you were,

Before you faded bare, like

The tree in autumn as it loses its leaves

In a tired forbiddance so like real tyranny,

And the pestles crash, making a silent ding

As they dance across the floor, newly fallen.

But I cannot dance. I cannot sing,

And I cannot fall down a mountain slope,

Singing with the daisies in a tired forbiddance,

For I am unusual, I am a deer, and I am

Nothing of the sorted mass of black sheep,

I am undignified and all its strangers,

I am everything, but the darkness,

I am everything but what I want to be.

I wondered once, upon a blue moon,

When the stars had fallen, for them

Are not in the sky as I had last seen them,

They are crumpled like a paper on the

Hard, trodden floor. They are clamped

By a deer, everything I chose. I chose the

Deer to come, to give me my closure.

There is a silent wish about having the feed

Of nature at you’re calling, yet you leave it alone,

Alone to wilt, and alone to dye.